Belated Birthdays
by Kapperz1212
Summary: The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds, and that's what you've given me. That's what I hope to give to you forever.- The Notebook. QxC.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note- And now, I give to you...**Belated Birthdays**_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Twilight series. No Copyright infringement is intended. _

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"Chance, where's my purple shirt!" I yelled into the hall.

"Claire, chill for half a second please. I put it on your dresser yesterday."

I hated when my sister borrowed things. And of course the one day that I actually planned out what I wanted to wear to school I couldn't find the shirt.

"It's not ther--" My yell was abruptly cut off. My sister shoved my bedroom door open and stormed over to the dresser, lifting the purple piece of clothing from beneath a mountain of T-shirts.

"Thanks," I muttered as she slammed the door shut. She was so charming sometimes… not.

I stared into the vanity mirror, disappointed as always. I struggled into the royal purple shirt of sweater material. It clung to my lack of a chest and hugged tightly to my skinny stomach, embracing the hips and curves I wish I had.

My dark skinny jeans looked nice at least. They had been one of the clothes I'd gotten for my birthday from my parents.

Fifteen, what a waste of a birthday. I didn't get my license, I wasn't turning into a teen, I didn't grow boobs, and I didn't gain any more hours for curfew.

Quil hadn't even been at the dinner last night. My mom had comforted me, telling me that Uncle Sam had called to let us know that he was really caught up in work.

I didn't even know what Quil did. He was always so cryptic, responding coyly that he was a patrolman whenever I asked.

I frowned into the mirror and pushed the long, brown hair over my right shoulder. I was in an awful mood. Mostly because I hadn't been able to spend my birthday with Quil like usual.

Every birthday in the past had been the same, breakfast in bed, four of my favorite movies, trying to teach Quil how to dance, and dinner at my favorite pizza parlor in Port Angeles. But yesterday I had school, and Quil had been working. All around, my day had sucked.

"You look pretty today, Claire." Chance stuck her head through the doorframe, munching on a granola bar.

"Thanks." I turned, smiling. I felt bad about being so impolite earlier. "Sorry for yelling at you," I apologized. She nodded, leaning against the wall.

"It's okay. You've been moody lately, I'm starting to get used to it," she smirked, her mouth still full of food. She spun on her heel and I immediately felt a slight twinge of jealousy as her hips swung naturally.

The doorbell's generic ding filled the house.

"Mom left for work a few minutes ago and I have to brush my teeth! Will you get it Claire?" My sister's voice rang from behind her shut bedroom door. I sighed and trudged towards the front door.

Immediately my heart swelled with joy and I felt warm all over. Quil stood on the porch, his eyes cast adorably towards the ground and his arms full of flowers.

"Happy birthday, Claire," he whispered. I threw my arms around him, pressing my cheek to the chest that always seemed to be too hot. He was stiff at first, obviously surprised. But then I felt him twine his long arms around me in return. He pulled me tighter, lifting me up so that he could kiss the top of my head.

"So, you're not mad at me?" He asked after my feet came back into contact with the ground. My heart was beating so loudly that I wasn't sure any of my words would be heard above it.

"No, Quil. It's not your fault."

He smiled sweetly and offered me the bouquet in his arms.

"I felt awful about it," he confirmed, following me into the house as I turned to put the flowers in water.

"Let's just say you owe me one," I murmured, rearranging the plants into the vase.

"Deal". He beamed.

"Morning, Quil," Chance yawned as she crept into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of milk. Her jet black hair was twined in a tight braid down to the middle of her back. "Well I'm off. See you at school, Claire."

My sister always left earlier than I did, she had soccer practice nearly every morning before school. She'd always been the athletic one. Despite her masculine sports abilities, her 5' 10" slender frame had a natural sway in its movement and shape. She always looked so good, so effortlessly. And most of the time I was pathetically jealous.

I, on the other hand, got more of my dad. His mocha brown hair and syrup colored eyes. I still had the body shape of an eleven year old boy, thin legs, flat chest and all. After the front door slammed I turned around to see Quil staring intently at me. I'd caught him doing it a lot lately. When I wasn't looking he'd stare at me…in a way that made it seem like he'd forgotten about the rest of the world.

"Quil?" He immediately shook his shaggy hair and blinked a few times.

"Yes, Claire?"

"Just making sure you were still alive," he chuckled at my response. I hunched over to haul my backpack over my shoulder when it was swept away.

"Didn't your mom tell you, Claire?" Quil's smirk was undeniably mischievous and I couldn't help but feel like kissing it away.

"Tell me what?" Why did my voice always have to shake?

"You aren't going to school today."

"Oh? And where would I be going then?" My heart nearly jumped away from me as Quil's smile widened a bit further.

"You did not get a satisfactory birthday yesterday, and so I'm giving you one today."

I felt my mouth gaping and hurried to shut it. My mom would never let me do this!

"And you asked Mom?"

Why did I even have to ask? If he had been the one to suggest it, my mother would never object. Mom liked Quil better than me most of the time! Mostly because he _offered_ to do the dishes, unlike me, and would clean up my room, unlike me.

"She didn't seem to mind that much." His devious grin was driving a mad blush into my already dark cheeks.

He grabbed my wrist and jogged me out into the yard, practically tossing me into the passenger seat.

"Ready for the best belated birthday ever?"

"Ready." I nodded and clicked in the seat belt.

No one's ever been able to measure how much love a heart can hold. Is there ever really a point when the heart is too full? Is that when the love begins spilling over into your liver and lungs?

Isn't that what love's about anyways? Sharing?

Why is it solely the heart's responsibility to house such an overwhelming emotion?

Perhaps no one's ever tested to see if their liver can even feel love. I bet it does. Because love isn't specific, it warms you from the inside out like sunshine, but it never picks which pieces to warm.

Quil made me feel warm all over.

Too bad we were only best friends; he used to say that I was the cousin that he never had.

I hated being cousins.

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_Author's note- Thanks for the read :). Leave a review if you feel so inclined.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note- So here we go with part two. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer.  
_

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She looked so beautiful.

Her hair billowed in the wind from the open window, her small hand clutching the armrest. I loved her.

I feel like I've loved her forever, probably because I have. She sang distant mindedly to the song playing, her lips moving like she was whispering a secret.

Her present was under the back seat of the car, rustling in its velvet case whenever the truck hit a bump a little too hard. It was a Hummingbird True Vintage Gibson. A brand new six string.

She'd been playing ever since she was little. I still remembered the day that Ronny, Claire's dad, had put his old guitar into her lap.

Her eyes lit up, brighter than any desk lamp I'd ever seen. She had squealed delightedly and wrapped her tiny arms around the wooden body, already beginning to pluck away at the taut strings. That was her fifth birthday.

Ronny died on Claire's ninth birthday, lasting long enough to train the musicality that he had passed onto his daughter. That was an awful day. The worst of my life, because it had been the worst of Claire's.

Claire never talked about Ronny, and I never brought it up. She also tried hard not to think about him, she'd told me once. Her finger pushed the seek button to the right as she searched for her favorite song on the CD currently taking residence in my stereo.

The soft strums of the guitar hummed through the speakers and I saw Claire's fingers tap her thighs gently, playing the notes on an imaginary guitar. That had been the only thing that the family had kept of Ronny's, his guitar. It was, at this moment, lying on the window bed in Claire's room, having been played the night before.

That was the only time in which she liked to think about her dad, when she was playing her—well his and _now _her guitar. When she played she felt close to him. She played a favorite song of his over and over, Satellite by Dave Matthews. She would pull those strings through the intricate bars of escalating and diving dozens of times until her cuticles began to bleed.

But the neck was beginning to splinter, and the bridges to wear down. It hadn't been the nicest guitar to begin with and was definitely on its last leg. I'd saved up for months to get Claire this one, which I'd bought four months in advanced, special ordered and exactly how I wanted it.

The fingerboard on the Gibson was engraved with small flowers of some kind, a hummingbird drinking from one, a butterfly hovering above some others. I'd thought of Claire immediately when I had seen it.

I was so nervous about giving to her. Would she think that I wanted her to forget about her dad? Would she be angry? Sad?

I couldn't even begin to think of causing Claire pain. I'd seen her in enough of that, pain that I couldn't prevent. That was the worst kind. I was supposed to protect her. But when it came down to the nitty gritty I couldn't do anything to protect her from the worst of it.

The rain started. The gray here got monotonous, but I'd learned to love it. What I really loved most was the way Claire smelled in it. I know it seems weird but when the beads of water hit her skin it highlighted the…earthy smell in her. She smelled like thyme that had just been stepped on mixed with some lavender petals whose scents had been released. It was a sultry, minty smell that could send my head spinning.

To my surprise she didn't roll up the window but instead leaned her head back as the wetness began to pelt her face. I barely held in a chuckle.

"Forget to shower or something this morning, Claire?"

"No," she snorted, "I like the rain."Her voice was airy as she finished. She lifted her arms up and began to tie her hair back into a ponytail. The gentle slopes of her raised arms made my heart rate skip a little bit. Her sweater was tight.

Sam's growl shot through my head, breaking my concentration and bringing me back to the road.

"What would you like to do today?" I asked, beating my head into ignoring the heat in my veins.

"Hm, pizza, movie, ice cream?"

"Sounds perfect," I commented, taking the chance to smile at her. She smiled small in return, turning her attention back to the window. I did everything for those smiles, any smiles, any little bit of Claire I could get.

We passed for awhile in silence, until she decided to break it with the one question I had been dreading, "Where were you last night?"

"Working." Keep it short, keep it simple.

"But don't you work for Uncle Sam?" Her voice was a bit irritated, it made my heart sting a little bit.

"Ya."

"And he wouldn't give you my birthday night off?" I winced as her voice weakened. It hadn't been any of our choices; Sam had needed everyone last night.

"He didn't really get to decide, C."

She sighed dejectedly; I hated those sighs. My knuckles clenched around the steering wheel and I felt the vinyl bending a bit. I took a deep breath, trying to cool the temper that always pulsed through me.

"Claire I'm so sorry," I pleaded. She nodded stiffly, making me feel like a box had been shoved down my throat.

There had been more than one last night. Unrecognizable ones thank god, but more than one none the less. And they had gotten way too close, ignoring the smell of us that I'd been told they detest.

"You believe me, don't you?" I continued.

"What's not to believe?" She turned to me with an indignant look in her eyes, "you never tell me anything _really_ so there's nothing to be dishonest about, right?" She spoke with a calm determination, absent of anger.

"It's not that simple," I repeated the phrase of Sam's that was coursing through my brain. He'd responded to my request to tell Claire about the pack that way for the past hundred times I'd asked.

She pursed her lips tersely and turned back to the window.

Sometimes I hated what I was. And then most of the time I didn't. Because if I hadn't phased I wouldn't have been able to pause my aging, and never would have been able to wait for Claire. That's all my life was, waiting. Which, as long as it was her that I was waiting for, I didn't mind. It would be so worth it in the end.

16. 16. 16.

I repeated in my head.

One more year and she will have caught up to the right age, the age I've been waiting for, the age when everything can happen the way it's supposed to.

One more year. Sixteen couldn't come soon enough.

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_Author's note- Leave me anything that you thought about it. Positive negative or whatever i would really appreciate feedback. I'm kind of crawling around in the dark here, creating Quil as a character that we don't know much about. Thanks for reading :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note- I love writing this. I hope you enjoying reading it!_

_Disclaimer.  
_

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I clambered out of the truck, stumbling uncoordinatedly onto the cobblestone sidewalks. I kept my eyes on the ground, avoiding his. 

My head had begun to wander off in the car, about late nights listening to old rock albums and gooey chocolate chip cookies. Memories that probably bring smiles to most people's faces but bring tears to mine. I skipped through that, asserting a question to Quil that probably shouldn't have been asked. That I knew he wouldn't answer, like always.

I hadn't meant to be rude about the night before. I mean I did care that he had missed my dinner. But it wouldn't really matter to me if he had talked to me about it. He never told me anything. And yet I explained everything to him! Every best friend, every piece of gossip, every tear, every sickness, every story I had ever heard or told had passed through Quil's ears. He knew me better than I knew myself.

I couldn't tell you some of the most basic things about him. I didn't know how old he was, what he did, or any of his friends. Camille, my best friend, knew him like a brother.

Sometimes I felt like this was a one way street relationship. I fed him everything about my life and heard nothing in return. The weirdest thing about it was that I still knew him well enough to love him.

It's weird to say that. But I really do. I don't think I've ever said that about anyone before. Well not about anyone except about someone who's gone. But I don't like to talk, or think, or hear about people who are gone. What an awful word that is. So empty of feeling, such a drawn out syllable.

Quil held open the door to the pizza parlor, the bell ringing loudly above the door, announcing our entrance. I squeezed past his huge form, the heat from his body shocking my arm. We sat in the corner booth, like always.

The waitress clunked over to our table, setting down two water glasses.

"Ready to order?" She asked in a bored tone.

"Two large pepperoni pizzas, extra parmesan," Quil said, the same thing we always got. He ate one and a half large pizzas, I ate three pieces. I had no idea where he put all of it.

"I can't believe you're fifteen," he sighed once the waitress had left, shaking his head in disbelief. I saw an opportunity open up and couldn't help but exploit the chance.

"Ya, I know," I said slowly, "how old are you?" His eyes turned stony in an instant.

"Older than you," he responded coolly.

"Like how old?" I demanded the rebellious side of me blooming. I smirked as his expression turned from cold to mad.

"Old enough," he gritted his teeth.

"This is ridiculous!" I fumed. I couldn't love him. I didn't love him. I didn't even know how old he was. He couldn't even tell me that?!

I felt like my entire life was crumbling in front of my eyes. I knew that this all had been weird. It all just seemed to dawn on me in one awful moment. My life consisted of 50 percent crap (sad stuff, school, homework, etc.)and 50 percent Quil. And the fact that the meaningful part just revealed itself as crap to me put me in a mood halfway past pissed.

The waitress returned, slinging the steaming pizzas onto the table. I chewed a random piece slowly, grinding my teeth in frustration.

"Why the hell can't I know how old you are?" It burst out before I had a chance to edit it. Oops. That one could get me in trouble.

"It's not that simple, Claire," the slice of pizza was trembling in his hand.

"It seems pretty simple to me. You have a birthday and you get a year older."

"It is not that simple."

"How can you call me your best friend? Or say that I was the 'cousin you never had' when you can't even tell me how old you are?" The hurt piece of me perked up in my tone. His eyes looked watery as I glanced up at him.

"I'll tell you soon, Claire. I can't explain it all now," he promised, his voice sad. The silky black hair stuck up as he ran his hand through it.

"Soon as in later today?"

"No."

"When?"

"I don't know," he confessed, sighing softly and throwing down his piece of pizza. I couldn't do this. I couldn't live like this.

"I feel like I don't even know you," I admitted, shrugging.

"You don't," he said in a voice so soft that I was sure that I wasn't supposed to hear it. My stomach twisted at the statement. I felt the hot water bubble in my eyes and swallowed heavily, trying to swallow the tears.

"I don't feel well," I said, shoving the piece of half eaten pizza away from me.

"Want me to take you home?"

I nodded sullenly, wrapping my fingers around the cuffs of my sleeves. He unfolded a couple twenties and left them on the table. I hopped out of the squishy bench and headed into the rain. My arms folded instinctively around my chest as I prepared for a long ride home.

My comforter had never felt as warm as I snuggled into the huge pile of blankets on my bed. I cried noiselessly. Hot streams ran down my cheeks in a serene manner. Quil. I missed him already. But what really did I miss? How much did I really know?

_You don't know anything_. The little realist in my head said. I sniffed a couple of times and wiped the water off of my cheeks with a handful of toilet paper.

Out of habit I walked over to my window bench and sat down onto the pillow top seat. I grabbed my old, worn guitar and rested it between my legs. Without realizing much of what I was doing I began running my fingers through notes, playing a newer but familiar song.

Without much intent I began to sing the chorus.

_"When we were only kids, and we were best of friends, and we hoped for the best, a__nd let go of the rest__."_

That sucked. I hated when seemingly random stuff ended up meaning things. I ran my sweater sleeve over my eyes, dabbing at the tears that reappeared inconveniently. I sighed thankfully when my phone vibrated on the desk, Camille's name flashing across the screen.

"Hey."

"Claire!" She paused, taking in my shaking voice, "what happened?"

"Bad day."

"At least you got to miss school!" She chirped. At least she was in a good mood.

"Yeah, that was fine I guess."

"Wow, this must have been bad," she concluded. I nodded, realizing that she couldn't hear that kind of response.

"Well good thing I have plans for us tonight!"

"I don't know if I'm up for it, Cam," I revealed, sinking back down into my mountain of quilts.

"Ha, well you better get up for it because I'm at your front door," she giggled. I groaned lowly and slapped a hand over my eyes.

"Let yourself in," I mumbled. I barely had time to shut my phone before my eardrums nearly burst.

"Think fast!" She shrieked as she jumped onto my bed, attacking me from all sides with her fingers. I tried to wiggle out from beneath her as she tickled me relentlessly, ignoring my desperate yells for mercy. When she finally stopped I was coughing from laughing so hard.

"You have awful reflexes," Cam laughed, rising from the bed and heading over to my dresser.

"You suck," I compromised, holding the sides of my stomach that were continuing to tingle. I opened my eyes and saw sudden flashes of color fly across the room. "What are you doing!" I yelled.

"We're going out," she reminded me.

"Why are you dismembering my drawers for that?!"

"We are going to hang out with Ross and his friend Casey."

"Ross Delvers?"

"Mhm." Cam had been crushing on Ross for years.

"You must be over the moon right now!" I squealed.

"Can't you tell!" She asked, her voice dreamy. As I really looked her over I did notice that her hair was prettier than usual, her makeup done, and she had on her cutest jeans.

"Actually, I can," I noted with renewed enthusiasm. I would do this for Cam's sake if no one else's. She deserved this kid.

"Now will you please say that you'll go with me?" She begged, her hands folded.

"Ya. I'll go," I glanced sideways towards the window, wishing for a second that Quil would be there, ready to apologize. But he wasn't. He had left in a hurry. He had been shaking really badly on the way home, like he had the chills. I wondered now if he might have been sick, but I had been too mad at the time to ask. Maybe I should have given him a call?

"Let's go get you ready!" Camille grabbed my hand and yanked me into the bathroom. I guess the call could wait.

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_Author's note- Thank you for reading. Any thoughts would be awesome._


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note- I hope you like it!_

_Disclaimer. _

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"Gosh Cam that hurts!" I yelled for the third time as she pulled my hair, attempting to shove it all into a ponytail holder. My hair was so thick that the rubber band barely wrapped around twice.

"You are not going to get it around a third time!" I told her, squinting my eyes as my scalp stung. She finally let go and sighed.

"Your hair really has got a mind of its own."

"I've been telling you that for the past ten minutes," I complained, scratching my head softly.

"Oh well," she finished, twirling her finger through the hair hanging from the holder, "your makeup looks really nice though."

"Thanks, I can do it well when I feel like trying," I explained. My eyes were surrounded by a thick coat of mascara and my lips covered in a rosy balm, it didn't take much to make my face look okay.

"Well, Ross will be here in like ten to pick us up so do you wanna just wait in the family room?"

"Sure, let's do that," I agreed, stepping into a pair of old jeans and a cute zip up hoodie.

The old Tahoe pulled up about ten minutes later as promised. Ross stepped out from the driver side door and I saw Cam nearly crumble to the ground in happiness. He strode over in his sexy nonchalant way, his hand slung in his pockets.

"Evening ladies," he greeted us, leaning down to give Camille a huge hug. She giggled loudly as he picked her up off the ground, cuddling his face into her shoulder. I felt a little awkward and headed towards the vehicle staring at my dirty converse. The back door swung open and I saw the most adorable pair of green eyes light up from the seat.

"Hey."

His voice was enough to make me swoon. I immediately blushed and tripped over the step-up to the car. I swear I could have died right there. I hoped desperately that he hadn't noticed. But, of course, he had and not only had he seen but he seemed enthused. He laughed loudly and jumped out to help me in. _God, kill me now._

"I'm Casey by the way," his megawatt smile could've lit up any cloudy day. He had bright eyes and shaggy dark hair that hung over his eyebrows. His skin was dark, like everyone's around here was.

"Claire," I responded, grabbing the hand he'd offered and stepping _carefully _into the back of the car.

Cam and Ross were already in the front, chatting animatedly about some teacher they both despised.

"Everybody buckled?"Ross asked as he switched on the radio.

"Where are we goin'?" Casey tapped Ross's shoulder as we merged onto the main road in La Push.

"How does dinner sound, girls?"

"Great," Cam and I said in unison.

"Dinner it is then," Casey noted, settling back into his seat. Ross had chocolate colored eyes I noticed in the rearview mirror. His thick black hair was kept pretty short; he wasn't lanky by any measures but not as thick as Quil. He was probably about 5'11". I glanced shyly next to me and guessed that Casey was probably about the same.

Casey was humming to himself as the country station spewed some random song. I hated country typically, but I guess I could make an exception.

"How does a burger sound?" Ross made eye contact with me in the rearview mirror.

"Fine to me," I shrugged softly. I looked over accidentally, well sort of. And Casey was beaming at me with a sort of look that made my heart try to jump out of my ribs. Which is a very uncomfortable feeling, I must admit. My cheeks burned as I looked down to the fabric on the seats.

"Me too," he acquiesced, not breaking his stare from my face.

We'd chosen an old burger place at the edge of Forks and gotten a table towards the back. Casey sat to my left, Cam across from me, and Ross to the left of her. Casey turned to me after a few moments of watching Cam and Ross's incessant flirtation from across the food.

"So, any boyfriends I should know about?" He asked in an innocent manner.

Was Quil my boyfriend? _No._ The realist in my head insisted. It may have felt like that sometimes but no, he wasn't.

"Nope," I replied, taking a chunk out of my hamburger with my teeth and chewing slowly.

"Good to hear," he commented quietly. I licked a glob of mustard from the corner of my lip and turned to smile at him.

"And why would that be?"

"Well I wouldn't want anyone getting mad at me," he joked. I shuddered inwardly at the thought of what Quil might do if he knew I was on a double date right now. However I chose to take the passive route, shrugged and returned attention to my dinner.

The boys politely picked up the bill, ignoring my and Cam's request to split.

"Gentlemen always pay for their dates," Casey finished the argument, winking at me. My heart was pounding loudly in my ears as we buckled into the car and the rate only increased as Casey's fingers snuck towards my own.

"Tracy just text me and said she was having people over, anybody want to go?"Cam spun around in her seat and asked us, but me specifically.

"Sure," I nodded. She smiled wickedly and turned back towards the windshield.

My phone buzzed loudly in my pocket and I flipped it open to one new text message from her, which was pathetic in itself since she was literally two feet from me.

_Body contact, huh? __U guys r__ 2 cute_

I felt my entire chest and face burn and glared at the headrest in front of me. I couldn't even bring myself to respond to the message so I settled on kicking the back of her seat pretty hard.

"This one's it," Camille pointed to the house to our right, in front of which there were only a handful of cars which was a comfort to me. Huge crowds aren't really my thing. I let go of Casey's hand as we headed towards the door, unfortunately my entire arm continued to shake after that.

"HIYA, EVERYONE!" Tracy yelled with a little more enthusiasm than necessary as she opened the door.

"Hey, Trace," Cam said, stepping forward to give her a light hug, I came up behind and smiled sweetly at the hostess.

"Thanks for inviting us, Tracy," Casey said from behind me.

"Everybody else is downstairs," she noted, pointing to the open door down the hall. The four of us trudged down the stairs slowly with Tracy behind us and I suddenly regretted coming. The noise from downstairs sounded like a lot more than a handful of people.

The relatively small room was full, but four heads stuck up a lot higher than the others.

"Tracy, who are those kids? They're huge!" Casey laughed, pointing to the tall boys whose backs were towards us.

"Embry and a couple of his friends, Quil—I think— and two others whose names I forget," she sang. My heart immediately dropped to my feet and I felt a big lump form in my throat. Cam's head snapped towards me and I muttered the only two words I could think of.

"Oh, shoot."

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_Author's note- Thanks for reading!! leave a review ;) it encourages me to write faster!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's note- Here we go!_

_Disclaimer._

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I had never been to a party quite as stupid as this one. But then again I was in the worst mood I'd been in for years.

"You are the worst wingman ever!" Embry complained, punching me in the arm. I simply glowered in return, not bothering to respond vocally.

"I mean at least pretend to enjoy yourself," he jabbed me in the side with his elbow. Not being in the mood for teasing I growled lowly and shoved him away from me.

"He's just grouchy 'cuz Claire's not here," Seth soothed, patting Embry on the arm while giving me a mocking smile. I rolled my eyes dramatically and ran my hands over my face. This had been the most awful day. I'd dropped Claire off in a hurry, nervous of keeping in control, and driven to Sam's still shaking pretty badly.

Sam was angrier at me for my lack of control than anything else. He said that my inability to control the temper was just "testimony to the fact I wasn't mature or strong enough to let Claire into this world yet anyway." I could've punched him when he said that and had to hold back my fierce instinct to do so.

I missed her so much. I felt so terrible about everything I had said, or rather what I hadn't. She deserved to know. She deserved everything. She deserved so much better than me. And this stupid curse was keeping me from making her happy. In fact it was the thing that was upsetting her, which just made me hate it that much more.

"Guys, lay off," Jacob insisted, looking at the other two. They snickered quietly but agreed, turning their attention to other things. I glimpsed over to Jake in order to thank him and saw his eyes narrowed towards something on the other side of us. I spun around and immediately began shoving my way through the crowd.

Claire was there, standing on the stairs. But the second she caught sight of me she darted up towards the second floor, some stupid kid that I'd never seen before tagging behind her.

"Claire! What's going on?" He yelled from behind her.

_Me, punk.__ That's what's happening._I wanted to say.

Who the hell was this kid? And why did he care where Claire went anyways? That was my business. But I did slow down as I climbed the stairs, allowing the boy to catch up with her as I heard the front door swing open.

"Where are you going?" He half laughed, half yelled as he caught his breath.

"I-erm…well you see, I-" She had no idea what to say. I held back telling the kid to mind his own business and to get his butt back in the house, but only because I had more important things to deal with. Like making up with Claire.

"Claire?" I said sternly as I reached the doorframe. Her eyes went wide with anxiety at the sight of me and she immediately spun on her heel and began to walk down the street.

A growl rumbled in the back of my throat as I walked past the boy and I saw his entire body go stiff. He looked frozen on the front lawn, a perplexed look bent through his expression.

"Wait!" I jogged slowly after her, noticing that the boy didn't follow. She didn't wait for me but she certainly didn't speed up either.

I sped ahead of her and stopped right in front of her next step, leveling her shoulders with my hands. I almost forgot everything I had to say as I looked into those eyes.

"Claire, I'm so sorry."

Pitiful, I know. My apology should have been something so much more substantial. But I had been too lovesick to talk eloquently at that moment.

"I know," she murmured, holding my gaze.

"So why did you run away from me?" I questioned, unable to hold back the pain that crept into my voice.

"Because you're always sorry, Quil," she paused and chewed on her bottom lip, "it's not about being sorry anymore. It's about telling the truth," she stopped again, thinking about how to word her next few sentences, "I tell you everything and we can't call ourselves 'best friends'…or whatever we are, if you don't do the same."

She was so right. She was beyond right. She was hurt, which killed me. Didn't she understand that I would lay down my life for her? That I would give anything to make her happy? Or just to hear her laugh?

I took a deep breath; this had to sound less than hypocritical.

"Claire, if I could tell you everything I would. And I will. I swear that on my life. But you have to understand that there are some parts of my life that I just can't share with you, not yet."

She laughed, void of humor. She blinked back what I knew were tears and I could feel my heart breaking as I watched. The worst part was that I couldn't do anything to make it better since I was the thing panging her. That killed me.

"Quil it's hurts too badly," she admitted, rubbing her hands up and down the outsides of her arms, "it's not fair." She finished. It felt like someone had just stabbed the air out of me. If I was hurting Claire then I would leave her alone. No matter how much it made me sick to even think of it. If that's what she needed, or wanted, that's what I would do.

"Claire you mean more than the world to me, but if you don't want me around then I won't come around," Those words literally made my world feel like it was sinking into an abyss. Without Claire I had no world.

…_at least not while you're awake._ I added silently.

She never answered me. She only looked up at me with those huge puppy dog eyes and blinked once, twice, three times. And then she shrugged past me and continued plodding down the street.

I could see her tiny shoulders heaving and I wanted more than _anything_ to run up and wrap my arms around her. I would promise her the universe and make sure that she got it too. But she didn't want my arms; she didn't want me because it "hurt too badly."

I wiped the hot water from beneath my eyes and, for the first time in almost fifteen years, phased without choosing to. The shreds of my tennis shoes and clothes lay at the edge of the forest behind Tracy's neighborhood. Maybe if I ran far enough I could outrun my own skin and abandon that part of myself. That way nothing would get in between Claire and I and I wouldn't ever have to be dishonest to her again.

I don't think that's really possible. But I sure tried.

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_Author's note- Leave some encouragement!! Thanks so much for reading this far:)_


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's note- ENJOY!_

_Disclaimer._

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I threw the front door open and stomped to my bedroom. 

"Claire, quiet!" My mom yelled from the room down the hall. That really pissed me off…but I did quiet down, resorting to throwing a silent tantrum of flailing arms and jumping up and down.

Quil. Quil. Quil. Quil. Quil. Casey.

Oops.

Quil.

That hurt really bad. I felt my heart tremble slightly as I collapsed onto my bed, cradling my knees into my chest. What had I done?

I couldn't believe I'd said those things. Were they true?

_Undeniably_, the realist said rudely.

But this couldn't be right. Anything without him couldn't possibly be right.

Or perhaps it was and it just felt so weird because it was different. Secrets had never bothered me when I was younger, but now it seemed that those were all Quil and I had. And that in itself was not okay.

My phone vibrated against my hip, a message from an unknown number.

_Claire?_

The text read.

_Who is this?_

I responded.

_Casey. _

Crap. The phone fell from my hand, clattering loudly to the floor. It vibrated again as I reached for it.

_Come outside._

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

As you can probably tell my head was in shambles. But I did creep towards the front door, my hand shaking as I reached for the knob.

As I should have expected, Casey was sitting on my front porch. His facial expression distraught.

"Hi."

"What the hell was that?" He asked, his tone still a little freaked out.

"I-I- it's ugh…"

"Let me change the question. _Who_ was that?" He corrected.

"Quil."

"Okay, who is that?"

"Well…" truth Claire, tell the truth, "he's been my best friend for…ever."

"Alright…" he commented, obviously expecting a little more explanation.

"We got in a fight earlier today and so it was awkward to run into him at the party. He followed me out to try and work things out," there that was honest.

"You told me you didn't have a boyfriend."

"I don't," I confirmed.

"That kid was obviously more than a friend, Claire," he almost sounded a little disappointed. I couldn't ruin this, not now. I had to figure out how to keep from destroying every good thing that came my way.

"It's complicated between us. Or well…" I paused, taking a deep breath to fight the stab in my chest, "it _was_ at least. But he was never my boyfriend or anything. I promise, Casey."

He only nodded slowly, his eyes wide. The silence settled uncomfortably, resting in between us like an elephant. I averted my gaze to the cloudy sky, studying anything so that I didn't have to make eye contact.

"I like you, Claire," he finally released, making the huge pachyderm evaporate.

"Me too."

"I've liked you for a long time actually," he admitted softly. I titled my head in inquiry, why hadn't I noticed him before? He noticed my confusion and chuckled in his sultry way.

"I moved here from Tacoma a couple months ago, when my parents split up my mom wanted to move back to her hometown. The very first day I was here I went to that tiny guitar shop on James road."

I remembered having been there, I had to buy new strings, my third pair in four months. Mom had been mad about that.

"And I saw you there at the counter, your case strung over your back. And I recall this moment perfectly, you thanked the clerk and as you were walking out you smiled briefly at me," he paused, closing his eyes, "and I remember promising myself that I would find out who you were and how to get to you."

My still-broken heart warmed a little bit and I couldn't help but smile weakly.

"That was the one," he chuckled, pointing to my toothy grin.

"Wait, you play?" I asked, reviewing the most important part of this revelation.

"Ya."

I smiled hugely then and told him to wait on the porch. I raced into my room and grabbed my instrument from the window seat, snatching my pick off of the dresser.

I saw his eyes light up as I closed the front door, settling down on the wooden steps next to him. My guitar felt comfortable in my hands, humming beneath my fingers. I began to strum lightly, plucking the strings that sang beneath my fingers. The bars came easily. I sang the song in my head, playing what I felt sounded right. I had this thing where after I'd heard a song and knew it in my head; I could translate it into guitar language. This piece was one of my favorites, by a band I respected with everything I had in me.

Casey tapped along, studying my technique.

"May I?" He interrupted, grabbing the guitar carefully and cradling it on his hips. He continued the song, singing beneath his breath.

"_For so long-I've sang this sad ole song. And it feels like my time is up-for she came and landed in my arms. And she filled my half empty cup; yeah she filled my half empty cup._"

"You have a nice voice," I whispered as he played through the bridge.

"Thanks," he smiled, sending butterflies up through my entire chest. He paused, his hands resting on the body of the instrument.

"I'm glad I came to see you," he said, glancing down shyly.

"Me too, I'm sorry I ran off. I should have told you…" what should I have said? Even now I couldn't think of anything adequate, "Well something, anything, I shouldn't have just left. I really am sorry."

"You're forgiven."

"Thanks," I smiled, my cheeks burning a little bit.

Casey flipped open his phone and sighed loudly.

"Well, I should get home."

I nodded, forcing an understanding smile onto my lips. I didn't really want him to leave because being alone meant I only had my head to talk to. And I had a lot to think about.

"Bye, Claire," he murmured quietly, leaning over and pressing his lips to my cheek briefly. My heart was drumming as he pulled away, the spot where he had kissed tingling. But he only smiled, handed me the guitar, and jumped up. He turned onto the road and began to walk slowly home.

My bedroom looked different as I entered it. But I couldn't pinpoint what exactly didn't feel right. I sighed heavily and fell onto my comforters, smiling as I remembered my conversation with Casey.

He made me feel good. And I really did like him; I couldn't help but grin as I thought of his laugh.

I heard a click from the other side of the room and straightened up, looking for something in the dark. I flipped on the lamp next to my bed and stood up suddenly.

A shiny black guitar case—that was certainly not mine—lay in my window seat, the window behind it slightly ajar. I walked over, dragging my feet. My pulse was pumping loudly in my wrists. I reached down and saw the tag, the paper stained with a few blotches of purple ink.

**Happy Birthday, Claire –Quil.**

_Sorry._

The last word was scribbled beneath the others, a last minute alteration.

I swallowed the tears that begged to bubble up in my eyes and clicked open the locks.

The Gibson shone even in the dull light from my lamp, the incredible wood colored with a cherry sunburst finish. There was a pretty carving of a hummingbird on the body and the new strings were thick. It was beautiful.

I brought it close to me and it fit perfectly between my elbows, settling into my lap. I plucked at the strings carefully, testing the notes. It was tuned flawlessly, as I should have expected.

"Thanks, Quil," I mumbled through stifled tears. I could've sworn that I heard a low howl from somewhere not too far outside my window, but I couldn't be sure.

I spent the next few hours playing, simply and wholly. My tears coincided with the notes, singular but flowing at the same time. My heart beat to the melody, keeping time through the staccato overture and through the quick paced verses.

Music was a part of me, but so was Quil. Whether he was at this very moment didn't really matter, he'd always be in my heart and I knew that. I still don't think I could've dreamed of a more perfect gift.

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_Author's note- Leave any thoughts that came to mind. Thanks for reading!  
_


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's note- I fought my own instincts and extended this chapter to almost twice the normal length. I hope you like it :) let me know if you do or don't either is fine._

_Disclaimer. _

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Four days, probably the longest I'd ever suffered through in my entire life.

Okay…maybe I was exaggerating. But still, it felt like ages. And I knew why it felt like forever and that was because my rock wasn't around. It was because I didn't have my boulder to wrestle with, or punch, or argue with over Geometry problems.

I missed him. I missed Quil.

I'd seen Casey at school the past two days, which was great, don't get me wrong. But it just wasn't the same.

It was weird Saturday and last night, I had felt hotter than usual when I was sleeping. Like there was a space heater too close to my bed or something. But every time I woke up my room was empty, my clock blaring grossly early numbers. I even felt something hot brush against my shoulder the night before, but I'm sure it was just my blanket or something. Although I'm obviously suspicious or I wouldn't be thinking it over again right now.

Whatever…it wasn't worth my stress.

My home phone droned in its hook.

"Hello?"

"What are you doing?" Casey asked, I could hear his smile.

"Watching American Idol."

"Awesome."

"What are you doing?" I asked, failing to keep a smile off of my lips as well.

"Watching American Idol."

"Oh, really?"

"Mhm."

"You're lying," I retorted.

"Well regardless I was thinking about you and wanted to talk."

"That was sweet of you."

"So what do you say we meet at the fork in the road?" His voice was so hopeful that it was beyond cute.

"Ten minutes?"

"Perfect," he said, clicking off his side of the conversation. I was about to dart out the door when I second guessed my untidiness and ran to the bathroom quickly. I rearranged my hair into a side braid and rubbed an excess amount of rosemary lip balm onto my pout, at least I looked tolerable. And with that I set off for the fork.

At first all I saw was a silver forerunner waiting, which didn't strike my interest at all. I circled myself, narrowing my eyes in the direction that I'd seen him run off towards on Saturday, but still no sign.

"Claire!" A yell from behind me sounded. Casey was sitting out the window of the forerunner.

"Casey?!" Ha. Of course I knew who it was, but he'd just been complaining to me yesterday about the fact that he didn't have a car.

"Look what my mom brought home!" He seemed giddy, his smile stretching practically from ear to ear. I jogged up to the open window, running my hand over the hood of the car.

"Oh, Casey, I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, Claire," he smiled, reaching over and pushing the passenger door open. I hopped _carefully_ into the seat and turned up the radio.

"Country?" I groaned. He chuckled under his breath, making my heart speed.

"What's wrong with that?" He feigned an offended tone.

"It all sounds exactly the same."

"It does not."

"Sure it does. Girl version country? _Whine, whine, __whine__, he left me I'm so __sad, but screw it I'm going to go party with my friends, __'__cuz__nothing's too bad when you're__ a big ole cowgirl. _Boy version country? _Whine, whine, whine, my farm, my horse, the wide open range, it all reminds me of her, too bad she broke my heart, oh well I guess I'll just go drink,_" I finished my ramble sardonically. He was laughing too hysterically to respond.

"Slap a southern accent on that, some banjo, and a harmonica and you've got yourself some full blooded country," I added with a heavy side of sarcasm.

Casey was in stitches next to me, his eyes beginning to water from laughing so hard. He huffed and puffed for a while longer before sighing shortly.

"I think that was a roundabout request for a station change," he stated, reaching for the tuning dial and flipping to something else.

"Thank you."

"No problem," he made eye contact with me briefly, smiling hugely and reaching for my hand.

Our fingers twined comfortably, like we'd held hands everyday for the past five years of our lives. His hand was big enough to cup mine, but not big enough for me to feel weird about holding hands this way. The butterflies in my stomach always woke up when I was around him, fluttering energetically into my lungs and then rustling around in my tummy again.

He was a good driver and was content in the silence as long as my hand was his. He only looked distressed once, when I took my hand away to wipe the sweat from my palm. I giggled under my breath at his pained expression, but his smile returned as I slipped my hand back into his.

We stopped at the grocer for some Gatorades, waltzing through the swinging door hand in hand.

"Claire?" I heard from behind me as we reached the refrigerators housing the sports drinks. I spun to see Em, well my Aunt Emily, but that just sounded too formal for us. She was staring questionably at the phalanges lock that I was currently involved in. I gently unknotted my fingers from Casey's and walked up to give her a hug.

She rubbed my back and kissed my forehead. Immediately I felt my cheeks flourish with that reddish rash that I just loved so much.

"I don't get to see you enough," she complained, her same warm smile gracing the scarred face.

"You're right, I should come by more," I agreed, backing away and preparing to introduce Casey.

I twiddled my fingers nervously as they hung next to my side. I knew that he saw the scars but wasn't sure whether or not he would mention it, or ask or whatever. Why did I run into people wherever I went? And it wasn't just normal acquaintances either; it was the people capable of making the situation as awkward as possible. I decided in that moment that I was cursed.

"Em, this is Casey," she nodded in a friendly way and waved from her safe distance away.

But then again, considering it from a more logical point of view, there were only a few thousand people in La Push to start with, and having had ties to at least a fourth of them made it pretty likely to see someone during my days.

That entire equation was summed up in the simple fact that this town was just way too small. Ew.

"This is my Aunt Emily, Casey," he smiled broadly and reached out his hand, shaking Em's cordially.

I didn't really mean that, though. Everyone I liked lived here plus I grew up here. Which made it both happy and disastrous in the same instant.

He luckily did not notice the questioning glance that Em threw me, but I pretended not to have noticed either. Which did _not _work out to my favor later, but at the moment it seemed fine.

"Well what are you kids up to?"She asked.

"We were out for a drive and stopped for some drinks," Casey explained nonchalantly but in a very polite tone of voice. Em tilted her head, looked at him for a long time, and then glanced back to me.

"I have to go pick up the kids from school. But we'll talk later, sweetheart," she said as she shuffled towards the counter, pushing her full cart. I couldn't help but sigh, releasing the nervous tension that had been building uncomfortable beneath my sternum.

Harry, her oldest (named after Leah Clearwater's dad), was in third grade and a spitting image of Emily's younger, less scarred self. She also had identical twin girls who were in second grade, Saylor and Bailey. They looked like mixtures of both Sam and Emily and were probably the prettiest little things I had seen in a long time.

"She was nice," Casey commented, grabbing two blue bottles from the case and paying for them at the front of the store. It was raining when we emerged from the store, not that I expected anything different. He automatically ran to my side of the car, unlocking the door and holding it for me, even as the rain drenched his entire body.

By the time I snapped my seatbelt in; he had jumped into the driver side and shook his hair out, sprinkling me with new rain water.

"Hey!" I screamed, holding my hands out to block the spray. He laughed good-naturedly and grabbed my hand again, turning on the wipers.

"I'm glad I moved here," Casey said slightly below the music.

"Me too," I grinned.

He pulled to the side of the road suddenly and leaned forward in his seat. His arm came around my shoulders and pulled me towards him. I allowed him to guide my body next to his but was surprised when he turned his face up into the windshield.

"Look."

"Where?"

"The rainbow," he explained, I followed his finger and smiled as the brilliant belt of colors came into focus. The sunset's rays had refracted through the raindrops perfectly.

"My mom used to tell me that every time I saw a rainbow full of its seven colors that I should make a wish," I spoke softly, as if afraid that any loud voice would shatter the figment in the sky.

"Check," Casey said beneath his breath.

"What do you mean?" I asked stupidly.

"I already made my wish."

"Oh."

I didn't need to ask what his wish was because his hand came against my cheek, holding my face close to his. His breath was minty as it spread across my hot cheeks and open lips. The heart in my chest was beating madly, making me sure that he would be able to hear its panic. His eyes kept slipping to mine, making sure he wasn't pushing any lines that I didn't want him to.

Quil popped into my head at that moment, his hardy laugh and bear hugs. I blinked slowly and opened my eyes to Casey's green stare instead of the brown that I'd been expecting for half a second. Wait. Should this be happening? Or perhaps the better question was should I let this happen?

Quil.

I used to dream of a first kiss when I was little, but it had always been with Quil. Never once had I even questioned whether or not it would actually happen with him. Because I had always assumed that it would.

_You didn't know the trickery of secrets back then either,_ the realist threw in her peace as usual.

I mean I had waited fifteen whole years for this moment.

But all comprehensive thought and consideration fell away as his lips pressed against mine. It was gentle at first, a cautious kiss. His lips were almost too soft, brushing carefully over mine. A free hand wandered to the small of my back and pulled me deeper into the kiss.

My arms unconsciously wrapped around his neck, bringing our bodies just a little bit closer. We both broke from the act gasping, my head was spinning in a weird case of ecstatic vertigo.

"Wow," I murmured as he directed the car back onto the road.

"Yeah…" he paused, taking the opportunity to shake out his trembling hands, "wow."

We pulled up to my house and he walked me to the door, his hand against the back of my arm.

"Good night," he said quietly, giving me a big hug. I nodded and smiled at him.

"See you tomorrow," I finished. He turned back into the rain and hurried to his car, waving as he pulled away.

As I meandered into the kitchen and gathered a few things to munch on for dinner, my head was muddied with silent conflicts.

What had I done?

Nothing.

But I'd kissed a boy.

People do it all the time, Claire.

(Yes, I realize that I was having a conversation with myself but this just seemed too much to be handled by only one of me!)

Not me people, though.

That made no sense.

Yeah, I know.

You miss Quil.

Yeah.

You wish it had been with Quil.

Yeah. Wait! No. I mean ye— oh I don't know! Don't ask me that one!

Sorry.

It's fine.

You like Casey, though.

Yeah, I do.

See? No harm done.

Ha! Tell that to Casey if Quil finds out about this. I can guarantee you right now that "no harm done" will _not _be his words of choice as he takes his multiple injuries into account.

Uh-oh. I hadn't thought about that one.

(By this time I also realize that I could have probably passed for a schizophrenic. But leaving that small detail aside, the conversation helped…)

(Well no, I'll be honest, it didn't really help anything.)

So I went to bed with a full head and a full stomach, a very full heart and a pair of tingling lips. All together it wasn't that bad.

But I still missed my best friend. I decided ultimately that as long as Quil didn't find out about this kiss then it hadn't been wrong. As long as Quil didn't get hurt then I was fine with it.

I wondered what he was doing right now. Probably working.

Right as I was about to fall asleep I got that extra hot feeling again. But I didn't have enough strength left to open my eyes. Quil smiled behind my eyelids, challenging me to another arm wrestling match. I felt my spirits lift a little bit and couldn't help but let a small whisper fall from my mouth.

"Night Quil."

I would've sworn that I heard a barely audible sniff to the left of my bed. But I was far too invested into almost being asleep to investigate it.

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_Author's note- Review if you would please!  
_


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's note- Even longer than the last, enjoy._

_Disclaimer. _

* * *

It had been long enough. It had been way too long.

The past week had passed and I'd only seen her at night when she was unaware of my presence. Her soft eyelashes would flutter as I spoke quietly to her and sometimes she would kick off her comforters, probably because my proximity made her too hot. But I always made sure to put them back on before I left; I couldn't let her catch a cold.

I missed her so badly. I missed that wild spark in her eye when she played her guitar, I missed that musical laugh that could light up my heart, and most of all I missed her touch. I missed the feeling of her tender fingertips, drawing over the back of my neck as she backed out of a hug. I missed the feeling of her punching my arm gently when I said something sarcastic. I missed the feeling of her hands around mine when she challenged me to arm wrestling matches that she always won.

I missed being able to say her name. That one syllable meant so much in my life that its use in my vocabulary was nearly instinctual. I was shaking nervously as I plodded up the path to her front door, trying to plan out my words in advance.

Claire, I'm so sorry. This is all so stupid, I should have told you everything from the start. I'll understand if you don't want to talk to me.

That stung to even think of. I knocked timidly on the wood, my heart thundering as it creaked open. I half expected it to get slammed back in my face.

Instead, Chance threw open the door, chatting on the phone.

"Ya, ya, one sec," she murmured, cupping the receiver with her free hand.

"Claire's in her room, playing guitar with one of her friends."

"Thanks Chance," I muttered, shutting the door with my foot as she scuffled back to the kitchen where she was fixing some sort of smoothie. I had never known that Cam played the guitar. I walked slowly back to the closed door, I could hear laughter and chords from within. I smiled widely as I heard Claire's unmistakable chuckle, my heart warmed at the sound.

I opened the door slowly, the heat beneath my skin beginning to claw mercilessly as my eyes took in the scene. The kid from the party had his arms around my Claire, a guitar in her lap. They were facing her window, unable to notice my entrance. He was talking softly in her ear, taking in the scent of her hair as he showed her how to play the bridge of some song.

"It sounds better if you relax the hand on top, letting the strings continue to shake as the notes go on. It sounds kind of like an echo. It's really cool."

She nodded. My heart was pounding like an anvil in my chest, the blood pumping through my veins starting to boil.

"Claire?" I said loudly. She jumped up from her position, her eyes wide with surprise and…fear? The kid laughed slowly.

"Ha, you jumped up quick," he smiled and turned towards me, his grin immediately falling. He stood up too, the guitar in his left hand.

Nobody said anything for a while; we all just stood there our eyes locked with one another's. I forced my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose as my instincts rose dangerously. It wasn't that I was as hot headed as Paul, well not usually at least. It was only around Claire. It was the dark side of the passion I had for her, I hated the fact that I couldn't tell her everything; I hated the fact that Sam had placed restrictions on our relationship ever since I had imprinted. But what pushed me over the edge was seeing someone else with their arms around her.

Maybe this is what she wanted. Something normal. I bet this kid told her everything; he didn't have any fatal secrets. She deserved normal, she deserved to be happy. I let out a restrained sigh and spun on my heel. I withheld the emotion that bubbled up in my throat, marching to the kitchen.

I shoved Chance out of the way and snatched a vase from underneath the sink, wrenching the cold tap of water on.

"'Scuze, you," she said with the straw in her mouth, laughing a bit. I could only shake my head. After the container had filled I dropped the flowers I had brought into it and headed outside. The rain pelted my skin hard, my head was screaming and my heart wasn't quiet either. I cursed loudly, grabbing a rock from beneath my feet and throwing it half a mile into the forest.

I didn't know exactly where I wanted to go until I got there. Sam and Emily's house loomed in the distance. I ran quickly, throwing the door open and storming into the living room. Jacob and Sam were on the couch, watching the football game.

Emily peeked out from behind the kitchen door and stared questioningly at Sam.

"I can't do this anymore," I seethed, clenching my fists. Sam stood defensively, but Jacob acted like I hadn't said anything and only flipped to another channel.

As Sam started to respond I cut him off, "I won't do this anymore."

"It's not your choice to make, Quil," he said firmly, his mouth taut.

"She hates me because of this!" I yelled, advancing towards the alpha. He kept his stance and calm expression which only pissed me off more.

"Quil there's a time for everything," he insisted strongly, "it's not time yet."

"NOT TIME YET!?" I screamed, throwing my hands into the air, "I've waited for thirteen years! How can you say that this is not the time! I've spent more time with her than her own mother!" I paused, gasping for air, my face red.

"How much more time could there be?" I said, more calmly this time. Sam scowled and glanced back to Jacob who kept a poker face, he then looked to Emily whose soft expression looked as if she too felt pain from this.

Sam sighed loudly and combed through his short hair, falling back onto the beaten couch.

"What exactly is it that you want, Quil?"

"To be able to tell her."

He paused again, taking interest in the toothpaste commercial dancing on the screen. He stayed like that for an agonizing amount of time.

"Don't push it, Quil. She's still a kid," he looked to me, sympathy and control in his eyes at once.

"Sam, I've been a part of her life since she was a toddler, she's been my world. I just want you to allow her to become a part of ours. This _is _my life, she _is _my life. I can't live without her and I can't escape this either."

His expression stayed cold, and he still hadn't told me that I could explain everything to her. I felt my knees beginning to buckle and the hairs on the back of my neck to stand.

"Out of anyone, Sam, you should understand!" I yelled, demanding that he give me some kind of answer. He had wrestled me to the ground in a matter of seconds; his teeth gleaming as he growled.

"Don't compare our situations, Quil. You have no idea what it was like," his voice trembled as his hands stayed locked around my biceps.

He picked me up as he stood, and pushed me towards the door.

"Explain it to her, Quil, but don't ever pretend that our situations are similar. All other restrictions still stand," he blew out his breath like it was steam, collapsing onto the couch and switching back to the game. Emily smiled from her place in the kitchen and gave me an encouraging wink. I shook out my limbs and reached for the door knob.

"Thank you, Sam," I said before I emerged back into the rain, my pulse faster than ever.

* * *

My hands were trembling as I watched his huge shoulders push through the doorway, my limbs too still to chase after him.

QUIL, WAIT! I wanted to yell. But my voice seemed to be gone.

His eyes had looked tortured as he saw Casey; my heart had cracked at the sight. I could see the battle in his eyes, the pain and the anger. It killed me to see that. But I hadn't been able to follow him; I hadn't been able to stop him.

Casey and I remained silent, both of our chests heaving. I glanced to the clock. Ten minutes passed tensely, I couldn't stop fidgeting or wishing that Quil would burst through the door a second time.

A hand much colder than the one I wished for closed around my wrist. He turned me towards him and met my expression with a furrowed brow.

"That was Quil wasn't it?" He didn't really need to ask, he knew it had been. I only nodded, pulling my arm from his grasp.

He could see the moisture in my eyes.

"Are you crying?" He asked his voice not sympathetic.

"No," I lied. "Not yet at least," I corrected. His brows narrowed, his mouth set in a grim line. He looked down to his feet, his eyes hurt.

"What about us, Claire?" He asked, not lifting his eyes from the floor. I only shrugged and slumped onto my bed, unable to answer straightly. Because to be honest, I didn't know.

He came and kneeled in front of me, "Claire, please tell me, something, anything."

It was weird how the tables had turned. I had been telling Quil the exact same thing only a week and a half before. And I didn't have anything to tell Casey. I didn't know what I was doing.

I liked Casey. I loved Quil.

It would have been fun to be Casey's girlfriend.

But I couldn't live without Quil in my life. He'd been my everything for my entire life. My life without him wasn't really a life at all. I felt like I was one of those light switches that could go between off, dimmed, and on. Without Quil my light bulbs wouldn't burn at all, with him just as a mentor or whatever the crap he was now my lights were dimmed, but if I could love Quil that way I _wanted _to love Quil, then my lights would burn brighter than anyone else's.

I guess Casey didn't quite fit into that equation very smoothly. I wriggled out from beneath Casey's arms and stood by the door, ready to go find Quil.

"I'm sorry, Casey," it wasn't exactly an answer, but it was something. His expression became melancholy and then his eyes flashed angrily.

" Don't do this, Claire. I like you a lot," he promised. I nodded.

"I like you too, Case," honesty brushed through my tone. But that probably wasn't the most strategic thing to say when you wanted someone out of your life.

"Then why are you being like this?" He asked, stepping towards me.

"Because I—" what was I?

"Because I love Quil."

It looked like someone had punched him in the stomach. He didn't respond to that, though. He only stepped towards me again, reaching out his hand.

"Please, Claire," he spoke mutely. I only shook my head.

"Case, you're making this harder than it has to be."

He suddenly charged at me, pinning me up to the wall, my hands above my head.

"This is hard!" He insisted. I felt myself begin to shake.

"Casey, please stop."

"Stop what?!" He demanded, his eyes swirling with fury.

"I've been chasing you for months! You're the only thing I've ever wanted! You're the only thing that makes this place okay," he continued. I felt guilty. But I had finally realized that without Quil I wouldn't be anyone at all. So I kept my mouth tight.

"Say something!" He entreated, banging my wrists into the wall with his palms.

"God Casey, get off!!" I yelled, struggling beneath his grasp. I hoped desperately that Chance had heard before realizing awfully that she'd left for practice seven minutes ago.

He didn't get off though; he leaned in towards my lips, his eyes hungry.

"Don't!" I screamed, twisting my face from side to side. He pressed his mouth against my neck, forcing his body weight onto mine, gluing me to the wall.

"STOP IT!" I continued, desperately trying to pull my hands from beneath his. He finally caught my lips with his and bruised mine with the strength that he pushed onto me. I kept screaming even through my closed mouth.

"STOP!" I yelled as he broke for breath, reaching my knee up to get him where it would hurt. But he dodged the move, expecting the rebellion. His breath was shaking as he began to near me again, I screamed with all of the oxygen in my lungs.

The bedroom door beside me flew off the hinges as Quil burst into the room, his eyes literally burning. Casey's body was immediately off of mine and against the opposite wall. The plaster cracked under the pressure as Quil rammed him up against it, holding him up by his neck.

"I swear to God if you ever touch her again I will make sure it is the last thing you ever do," Quil snarled, allowing Casey to drop four feet onto the ground, clutching his neck. Quil grabbed him by the arm and Casey screamed in agony, throwing flailing punches at Quil's face. He was dragged out into the front hall where Quil threw him against the front door. Quil's fist propelled towards Casey's face, breaking his nose with a loud snap. Casey screamed and fell onto all fours, his nose dripping blood onto the hardwood flooring.

"If there is one scratch on her I'll break every protruding part of your body," Quil growled ferociously, opening the door and tossing him onto the cement patio steps. "GOT IT?!" He demanded furiously as Casey scrambled up from the ground and ran in the opposite direction.

He walked swiftly back to my room, where I was collapsed on the floor bawling. He scooped me into his hot arms and laid back on my bed, holding my quivering form to his.

"Sh, Claire. It's alright," he whispered into my ear, stroking my hair.

"It's okay, I promise," he affirmed, folding me deeper into him.

All at once the worst moment of my life had turned into an okay one. No matter what had happened, or what was coming, as long as I was with Quil I knew it would all be okay.

* * *

_Author's note- Thanks for reading! leave any opinions with the small blue button below:)  
_


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's note- The length again is admirable. ;) Enjoy. _

_Disclaimer.  
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* * *

I woke up in a pair of large arms, my body much too hot for comfort. There were tear stains on the pillow case beneath my face and a dry cottony feeling at the back of my throat.

"Awake?" He said gruffly from behind me.

I turned slowly around in his arms, hardly registering the fact that Quil was actually permitting prolonged physical contact. I took advantage of the situation and snuggled into his chest.

"Yeah but I think I want to go back to sleep," I said quietly, my nose against his shirt. I took deep breaths, pulling his comforting musk into my lungs.

"Are you okay?" He asked shakily, wrapping me a little closer to him. I couldn't have felt safer anywhere in the world.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I promised, letting my fingers rest against Quil's shoulders.

"Are you too hot?" He asked, glancing down to me. I laughed lowly and pushed away from him slightly.

"You're super concerned today," I mused, smirking.

"It hasn't exactly been a very easy day, Claire," he spoke seriously. I nodded, looking uncomfortably down to the floor.

"But you'll be fine?" He asked once more, challenging my words from earlier.

"As long as you're around, then yes, I'll be fine."

I was sick of hiding feelings. I knew how I felt. And I wasn't keeping anything to myself anymore. I wish I could honestly say that it was the romantic in me speaking, but to be honest it was the spiteful rebel without a cause who loved to surprise people.

His smile grew slowly, shyly. It crept up between his lips and spread itself out until it was wide enough to display the dimple that creased his right cheek. He lightly pressed his lips to the very peak of my forehead for a second that was way too short. My heart fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird and the spot where his lips had come into contact with my skin burned hotly.

"I have to get home to shower and change but I'd like it if we could maybe take a walk tonight, down on the beach?" He whispered, propping up on his elbow. "I have some stuff I'd like to…share with you."

"You mean you're finally going to—"

He cut me off.

"Yes, Claire."

My grin bounced easily into place, my arms instinctively swinging around his huge shoulders and squeezing hard. He laughed softly into my hair, and stood up from the bed. He placed me carefully on the bedside and turned to the door.

"Pick you up at 6?"

I looked to the clock, 4:48.

"Sure."

"Bye, Claire."

"Bye," I murmured as he slipped out the doorway.

* * *

My hands could barely keep the mascara wand from quivering as I swiped it quickly over my lashes. I took a deep breath, attempting to consciously slow the speed of my heart beats. And just an FYI, don't try it, it doesn't work.

I shook out my hands, trying to throw the nerves out of my arms. I had a boring, thin dress on. But given that it was May and that we were going to the beach I figured it would be fine.

The sharp knock came at the door and I dropped my toothbrush, still foaming at the mouth.

"Chance, get it!" I yelled into her room, spitting toothpaste all over the counter. She huffed out into the hall and scurried, obviously annoyed, to the front door.

"Is, uh—"

"She'll be right out, Prince Charming," my sister snapped and retreated back to her bedroom. I had to remember to thank her later for being so overtly kind…

I quickly grabbed my pair of leather flip flops and headed into the hall. He was leaning casually against the wall, a pretty, blue button up starkly contrasting his skin. His eyes lifted shyly to mine, staring at me from behind the thick blackened lashes.

"Hi," he murmured his voice husky.

"Hey."

"You look," he paused, grazing over me with wide eyes, I felt myself blush fiercely, "amazing."

"Thank you," I bit my lip, holding in a huge smile, "you look good too."

"Ready?"He asked, offering me an open hand.

"Yeah," I grinned, twisting my fingers around his.

We rode over in silence, his thumb stroking the top of my hand gently. Sand slipped underneath the soles of my feet as I stepped out of the truck, smiling as the spray of the sea sprinkled over my cheeks.

"Coming?" Quil laughed lowly from a couple yards to my left. I nodded and jogged slowly up to him. We sauntered slowly over the shore, his hand buried deeply in his pockets. The silence between us was shallow, knowing it would be filled soon.

I stared into the fading light of the sun, its body sunken beneath the horizon but its rays still stretching over the edge. The watercolor palette was splashed across the sky and I was happy that the clouds had dissipated momentarily, allowing the scene to play out.

"Claire?"

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you something?"

My heart sped.

"Sure."

"What do you think of us?"

And then it stopped altogether.

I swallowed dryly, suddenly unsure of what to say. I just loved when that happened. And it seemed to only happen around Quil. Sounding like a bumbling idiot didn't sound like very fun at the time so I thought my words through carefully.

"I…I…think we're," I bit my bottom lip hard, "well— we're…erm…best friends?"

Smooth…

I felt my cheeks burn horribly.

He nodded, his eyes intent on mine, obviously expecting more. I threw my hands up softly into the air, an act of humorous surrender.

"Gosh, Quil, I don't know. You're more eloquent than I am anyways. You tell me."

He scoffed and a goofy grin swam across his face.

"Eloquent? I don't think I've ever been called that before," he chuckled, kicking some sand into the air, "but I think that we're…" he paused, his expression pensive, "well that's actually what I wanted to talk about, Claire."

He stopped, causing me to run into him. He laughed and spun around, pointing to a piece of beached wood to my left. We moseyed over to the natural bench and settled onto the white bark.

Quil didn't start talking right away, he just stared at me. I ducked my eyes under his gaze, suddenly self conscious.

"I've wanted to tell you for so long," he began, sticking his hands into his pockets again. I only nodded in response.

"There's a reason that I've been around for so long, Claire. There's a reason I only look sixteen and always feel too hot to you. There's a reason that I haven't been able to get close to you…the way I'd like to. And there's a reason I wasn't there for you on your birthday."

I had barely heard anything past his admission about wanting to get close to me. The butterflies in my stomach awoke and did a small jig in my chest.

He stopped and gazed back at me, his eyes fearful. I reached out and placed my fingers over his wrist, stroking the warm skin softly. He smiled at me and took a deep breath.

"Claire, you know all those ancestral stories about our tribe?"

"Which ones? The ones about Kaheleha and the spirit warriors?"

"Mhm. Do you still remember the later parts of the story?" Quil inquired.

"Yeah, the leader Taha Aki learned how to share a body with a wolf, right?"

He nodded, his hands coming and folding behind his head as he paralleled to the trunk, lying down against its length.

"Taha Aki's descendants inherited the ability to transform too," he breathed, his eyes set on the darkening sky.

"Okay…" I ambled through the word, drawing out the incredulity.

"You know how I work for Uncle Sam?" He asked. These random questions didn't seem to string together in my head but I assuaged his questions, worried that he'd get mad at me and decide not to tell me anything if I mentioned his randomness.

"Yes."

"Do you know what Sam does?" His dark orbs flickered to mine.

"Not really…" I admitted, drifting off as I realized how weird it was that I didn't know what my Uncle did for a living.

"He protects the reservation," he said as he sat up, his eyes a good half a foot above my own.

"From what? Mythical creatures?" I hissed through my teeth, snickering at my own imagination.

I glanced to Quil and immediately felt my amusement fizzle away. His crestfallen expression jerked my heart down, making it hard to breathe.

He nodded stiffly and sighed heavily, pushing off of the wood.

"Wait! What?!" I demanded, stomping over to his rigid form. I wish I could say that my head was actually wrapping around what was happening, that I understood even an inkling of this mess. But sadly it was starkly blank, unable to comprehend any of the mish mashed confessions that had occurred.

Quil let out a breath, letting his chest collapse entirely.

"Our people are sacred, Claire. They've always possessed magic that others have not," his voice deepened a note of reverence taking over; "it's not our choice to come into the gift. It simply runs in our blood lines."

"Quil, I'm sorry. But I really don't understand what you're saying," I attempted a compassionate tone, letting my fingers stray to his.

"Sam, Jake, Paul, Leah, Seth, Embry, and I are all part of that old legend, Claire. It's all true."

"You're spirit warriors?" I jeered, sneaking a small chuckle beneath the statement. He frowned and turned his eyes back to the sea.

"No, we're the beings that came out of Taha Aki's transformation into the wolf," he sighed, his hand tightening around mine as if he were afraid that I'd run off down the beach screaming, "we're werewolves, C."

He kept his eyes forward, refusing to meet mine. I almost laughed, thinking it was a joke. There were no such things as werewolves. Humans who howled at the full moon and sprouted fur coats? Ha. I almost laughed aloud at the image that came to mind. I envisioned some half man half wolf disaster, a scraggly stray dog walking on two legs.

"Will you show me?" I requested, the thought slipping past my lips before I had a chance to rethink it. He glanced down and gave me a really weird look. But the second I was about to apologize for the stupid question he responded coolly.

"Will you wait here for a second?" He asked, his eyes bright with…excitement?

I nodded, stunned. He walked a ways away, into the surrounding woodlands. My hand felt oddly cold and lonely without him there and so I crossed my arms, rubbing my palms against the outsides of my biceps. Only a few minutes later the strangest thing happened.

A large form became visible from the tree line. I was frozen where I stood, gauging how much of this I really believed. And then it stepped into the pool of moonlight that had spilled onto the beach. Its chocolate fur was glossy in the moonbeams, its shoulders looming as it crept hesitantly towards me.

I don't think my imagination could have been farther off. The thick coat of fur and sturdy build said enough, but the sheer size of the wolf was enough to render me speechless. I stared in awe as the animal approached me, a bud of fear in my chest. To say it was huge would be an awesome understatement.

It was at least eight feet tall at the shoulders, its proud head standing higher than that. And yet it came to me with its head lowered in submission, its ears flat against its head in apprehension.

He stopped about ten feet from me, laying down into the sand with his head between his paws. I don't remember walking towards him, but I did get closer. Once I was in close enough proximity to touch him I reached out, my fingers trembling as they neared the top of his head.

His fur was thick but unbelievably soft. I ran my fingers through it as he growled softly, something that sounded a little bit like a purr. I petted his ears and stroked his neck, running my hands back over his shoulders. I adjusted a little bit and sat right in front of the wolf.

He lifted his head slowly and slunk towards me. I leaned back a bit but resisted scooting backwards. I didn't know what to expect exactly, but I certainly knew what to do as the large chin set into my lap, the eyes peering up at me.

I saw at that very moment the Quil part of the wolf. I could see his spirit in its eyes. I know it sounds weird to say that but I swear I did. If you look into someone's eyes enough times there is an essence that you come to recognize. His is a jovial, plentiful depth. I needed to see no more. Werewolves were fine in my book. I bent down to the oversized muzzle and kissed him gently on his nose, which was wet and cold.

He huffed out what sounded like a laugh and rose up from the sand. He galloped back into the forest and returned as Quil, human Quil.

He practically ran into me, a euphoric smirk in place. He lifted me up by the ribs and spun me around, slowly bringing me into his chest.

"That was," I struggled for the word as he sat me down, "magical."

His smile grew, if that was possible. He placed a tender hand on my cheek and spoke to me softly.

"If you don't mind, I would like to try this as a human," he smirked and began to lean down towards my lips. I couldn't help but acquiesce.

I wish I could even describe what I had felt with Casey as a first kiss, but it paled miserably in comparison. Quil lifted me into his hot chest, his breath blowing over my cheeks. Our bodies pressed together tightly, woven as one. He was cautious as he approached my lips, timid at first. And then the sensitive skin caught mine and lit on fire. Our mouths moved in soft harmony, opening and closing rhythmically. And then his tongue slipped past my teeth, practically shocking mine with its heat.

He tasted of pine —if you can imagine that pine actually has a taste— and like the spray of the sea. Our silhouettes melted together, the passion forming a tight ball at the bottom of my stomach.

And then he set me down and smiled.

"Much better," he cooed, messing my hair with his large hand. He pulled me into a snug embrace and kissed the top of my head.

I wondered distant-mindedly what Cam would think if I told her I was in love with a werewolf.

* * *

_Author's note- Leave your thoughts. Thanks for reading:)_


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's note- Thank you all for all of the encouragement. It really helps. Enjoy._

_Disclaimer.  
_

* * *

It was bliss. Simple, pure, excruciating bliss.

Sam's voice was booming, his screams causing bolts of pain to shoot through my head. But I couldn't pull my lips from hers. It was too good, too sweet.

She tasted unbelievable. Her lips had been balmy and slow while her hands were tight against my back. My heart had been thundering against her chest, my hands quivering from desire instead of anger.

I was practically dizzy once I had set her down, my body aching to have her close to me again. I could hear the alpha's scolds ringing in my ears, but it had been worth it. Disobedience was fresh and rewarding.

She smiled calmly up at me, sending my heart wild again. She clasped her hand around mine and folded into the sand. I followed and pulled her into my lap, leaning back onto my hands. We sat there for awhile, a long while. She stared at the swelling waves as I twirled pieces of her silky hair between my fingers, conscious of every single piece of me that was in contact with her.

"You never really explained why you missed my birthday," she said, her stare remaining forward.

I grimaced invisibly behind her. I wanted to keep as many nightmares to myself as possible. Not that I would mind comforting a distraught, sleeping Claire, but to cause her any discomfort at all was the last thing on my mind. And I had to wonder how much of this she would really have faith in.

She'd believed me so far, though. No use shutting down honesty at its greatest.

"We had a situation to deal with," the compromise I made with myself was that I wasn't going to release the truth without further prodding.

"What kind of situation?" Leave it to Claire to get it out of me.

"We were patrolling."

"Patrolling for what?"

"Vampires."

I cringed as the word left my mouth, feeling her go stiff in my arms. She retracted from me a bit, shying away from the contact.

I shouldn't have told her.

"They're real too?" She murmured, barely loud enough for me to hear. I nodded, realized that she couldn't see that kind of response, and answered her gently.

"Unfortunately."

"Scary…" she whispered, unable to formulate any other kind of response. I wrapped her tighter against my chest, sighing into her silken hair.

"No need to be scared, Claire. I'm always watching, always protecting you."

"Have you always?"

"Yes," I conceded. I couldn't pick and choose which parts of my life I was going to share, I had to give it all away, "I…well, we, realized what had happened when you were two."

"How?"

I relaxed into my position a little further and prepared to spill everything. I just prayed that she wouldn't throw it all back in my face. But of course, if she did than I would leave her alone.

"It's hard to explain," the description rolled around in my mouth, figuring into something cohesive.

"Try," she beseeched, cozying into my lap.

"Well it's called imprinting. It's like love at first sight, but the werewolf version. Which means everything is deeper, stronger, and more complicated."

"How does it happen?" She purred, beginning to play with the tendons in my hands.

"We don't know really," I admitted, distracted by the delicate fingertips roaming over my arms.

"What does it feel like?"

"Like a whirlpool," I said honestly, chuckling over my answer. She glanced amusedly up to me, her brow furrowed. "It seems as if the entire world gets spun onto a different axis, nothing matters except the person on whom you imprint and you recognize that you would go to the lengths of the universe and back just to see them smile."

Her grin broke slowly across her face, each tooth revealed sending shivers up my spine. I got lost in her eyes, falling into their spinning depths. In the bottom of my heart I knew that I would have gone to visit the farthest fingers of the Milky Way galaxy and return if it meant I could see that smile everyday for the rest of my life.

She narrowed her eyes carefully in my direction and I could practically see a question begging to be answered in her stare.

"So if you imprinted on me when I was two, how old are you?" She asked it in a calculated manner, as if asking a question in order to solve some sort of scientific dilemma. I let the air drain out of my lungs.

How old was I?

I didn't even know the real answer to that question. What determined how old you were? How many years you'd spent on the earth or how many years of damage had been bestowed onto your body?

"Well, age is different for us."

She laughed dryly.

"What isn't?" Claire jeered playfully.

"Seriously," I agreed, shaking my head. But then I went back to wondering about my age, I reviewed the years in my head trying to answer the question myself, "when we phase our aging gets put on pause. So technically I'm sixteen. But I've been around for a lot longer than that."

She nodded, accepting the explanation. I wondered bitterly how many fairy tales I would share before she decided I was crazy and ran away screaming. I knew I was walking a pretty thin line and that the edge couldn't be too far away.

We sat there for a long time in a malleable silence, interrupted by the winds through the trees and the undulations of the tides. I counted her breaths, enjoying the feeling of her inhales and exhales.

"So what happens now?" She inquired, her huge eyes blinking up at mine.

What did happen now? How could I keep away from her after all of this? All of a sudden eleven months and four days seemed a lot longer than the fifteen years that I had already waited.

"I'm not supposed to have a relationship with you until you're sixteen," I divulged, my heart drooping as I was pulled back into the reality that Sam had demanded.

"Too late," she stated wryly. A bubbly laugh burst through her lips, lighting up her entire face.

"I know it feels that way, but it's nearly impossible to get around the parameters," I declared, hating Sam more than ever.

"Why?!" She demanded. "Who set them?" I could see the anger rising in her cheeks.

"Sam."

She hissed out a breath and sighed. She knew how difficult her own uncle could be.

"Well I'll talk to him," she stated bravely. I smiled and stroked her cheek comfortingly.

"If only it was that simple, Claire. You see, Sam is the…boss and whatever he says goes: no arguments, no complaints."

"Okay…there are loopholes to everything, you just have to look hard enough," she reasoned, squeezing my hand encouragingly, "what were the parameters?"

"No dating. No intimacy." I remarked stoically, "Until you're sixteen."

"Well…I mean we kissed…doesn't that count?" She asked, her cheeks darkening from embarrassment.

I nodded.

"But-you got around that, right?"

"Kinda," I revealed, wincing as I recalled the pain.

"What happened then?" She demanded, obviously frustrated.

"Well when Sam gives orders and you disobey them you hear him in your head," her brow wrinkled quizzically and I knew I was pushing the envelope on how much longer she would believe me unconditionally. "It's like he's right there yelling into your ear…it kind of feels like someone is nailing something down in your brain, with a really big hammer."

She sighed and rolled her pretty eyes.

"That sucks," she relinquished.

"I know."

"I hate Sam sometimes," she muttered under her breath. I couldn't help but allow a laugh to tumble out from my chest, my cheeks straining in the expression.

"Me too, Claire. Don't worry."

* * *

I don't know how to describe the night other than perfect. He had driven me home, our hands latched together.

It still didn't seem real to me. I couldn't fathom his world, his whole other life. And he hadn't just left me out to dry like I had originally thought, he really couldn't tell me.

But now he had, I knew everything. It felt like someone had lifted the bars from in between us. There was nothing separating us anymore. Well…unless you regarded the eleven months and four days until my sixteenth birthday. But I could deal with that. If he could wait, I could wait.

I hoped honestly that he was rather impatient because after the kiss we'd shared earlier I wasn't sure how long I could go without another.

I sighed sadly when we finally pulled back up to my house. Back to the real world.

The rocks crunched under our feet as we sauntered up to my front door. I expected him to say goodbye there, but instead he opened the door for me and followed me in. Not that I was complaining about that.

My heart rate increased with every step as we neared my bedroom door. I stopped once inside and spun to thank him for everything. Fortunately I didn't get the chance to.

He gently pushed the door shut behind him and placed a strong hand on my back, urging me towards him. He lifted me up against his chest, inhaling shakily. And then his mouth met mine and I felt the rest of the world melt away. His breath was hot in my mouth, his lips moving against mine. His free hand roamed tenderly over my shoulder, giving me goose bumps. I pressed up against him and he moaned mutely into my mouth, sending my pulse through the roof. My skin felt fevered wherever it made contact with his. He ran his hand through my hair, resting it at the base of my neck. I wrapped my legs around his waist and heard him hiss through his lips, beginning to tremble. His hands traveled down my sides as our lips stayed connected until he finally set me down on the bed, holding his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Quil. Are you okay?" I barely got the words out; my head was still spinning in ecstasy.

He put pressure against his forehead with his hands but smiled at me through his fingers.

"It was worth it," he snickered, grabbing my hand with one of his, "it'll go away in a sec."

"I'm going to go put on my pajamas," I said calmly, "will you wait for me?"

He nodded and moved to sit on my bed as I maneuvered around his form, flying to my armoire. I pulled out an old t-shirt plus a pair of soffe shorts and ran to the bathroom. I nearly collapsed against the counter, my heart still beating wildly out of control. My hands were shaking and I couldn't wipe the stupidly wide grin off of my face.

I loved him.

I yanked on the PJ's and brushed my teeth vigorously, as fast as I could. I stumbled back to my room and shoved my dress into the closet. Quil was standing next to my bed, his hands in his pockets, a content smile radiating from his face. He folded back my comforter and motioned for me to jump in.

He sat down next to my curled form and brushed the hair on my forehead back, twirling it behind my ears.

"Thanks for everything, Quil. You don't know how much it meant to me," I whispered, bending into his warmth.

"I'd do anything for you, C," he said. I blushed softly and pulled the comforters up, hiding my burning cheeks. He smirked, bemused, and leaned down towards me, pressing his smooth lips against my forehead very softly. His breath fanned out over my brow as he whispered against my skin, "I love you."

My heart nearly stopped. I felt my eyes cloud over as I looked up to his looming form.

"I always have," he affirmed, his eyes sincere.

I don't think that there are words in any language that can describe the feeling that consumed me at that moment. It was almost painful it felt so good. It was this rush of elation that felt like prickles all over, I could feel them in my stomach, all over my skin, and in my lungs.

There was this wave of harmony that broke over me too, taking me under its foaming surf. I didn't claw to the surface either; I wafted beneath its current, soaking it in.

"I love you, too," I said. His entire face bloomed into a smile, his eyes dancing with a jovial, spirited happiness.

"Always have," I added, laughing as the smile on his face seemed to grow.

"Good night, Claire," he comforted as he rose, moving towards the door.

"G'night."

That night I had dreams. I dreamt of big brown wolves, big brown eyes, and the love I had in my heart for them both.

* * *

_Author's note- :) I hope you liked it. Leave your thoughts. Thanks for reading guys!!_


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's note- Some bonding moments._

_Disclaimer:I own nothing of the recognizable characters, plots, places, etc., all rights reserved for Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

It had been a couple of weeks since the beginning of my life…my real life. Dramatic, I know. But I just can't help but admit it. 

I was at Embry and Quil's house one day lounging on some of the patio furniture that they used in the family room. Embry was flipping through the channels, a box of pop tarts in his lap and a bottle of Hershey's chocolate on the table beside him. He lifted one of the s'mores pop tarts out and squeezed chocolate over it in zigzags.

"Oh gross, Embry," I whined with a smile on.

"Claire you have never tried it, how would you ever know?" He jousted back, stuffing half into his mouth. The excess chocolate sauce globbed into the edges of his lips and got licked off slowly.

"I guess I never will," I shrugged, laughing half in disgust half in amusement. Quil walked into the room in cut off jeans, his perfectly chiseled chest gleaming with water beads from his shower. He shook his head as he approached me, showering me with the spray. I squealed and raised my hands as shields, cracking up as he lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder.

"Take the PDA somewhere else guys, I'm trying to watch Family Guy!" Embry complained, throwing a large overstuffed pillow at us. Quil growled playfully at him but set me down (much to my disappointment) and asked if I wanted anything to eat.

"No…I think Embry has grossed me out of eating," I smirked at Quil's roommate, who stuck his tongue out at me, "thanks though."

Quil grabbed my hand, making it erupt in tingles, and pulled me towards the kitchen.

"Well, ice cream sounds good to me," he explained, swopping me into a stool as he reached for the freezer. His hand emerged with a full pint of Ben & Jerry's chunky monkey attached. He raised his eyebrows as he grabbed for a spoon and grabbed two instead of waiting for a response.

"I didn't take you for a banana person," I said through a mouthful of chocolate chunks, banana ice cream, and pecans.

"Only ice cream, really," he mused, drawing the upside down spoon from his mouth gradually.

It was weird how even the most insignificant of moments, like that one, stuck with me. There was nothing grand or ornamental about them…just a big chocolate wolf that made my heart swell and race whenever he was around.

I lay in bed at night, unable to erase his face from behind my eyelids. I cuddled into my comforters and ached for the smell of pine and sea breeze. In the morning I would rush through my routine, skidding to the front door at 7:43 AM exactly. Quil had taken to picking me up for school every day since that weekend, insisting that the bus was unnecessary. He was always waiting, not bothering to knock on the door.

Sometimes he had dark circles beneath his eyes and a dimmed expression. He would say on those days that Sam had given him rounds overnight. It dragged my heart down to see him so tired but he would always grin and say that my morning greetings were enough to get him through the fatigue.

This one morning started as every other did, I jumped from bed at seven and made myself cereal, accidentally bumping into a hormonal Chance.

"Claire, could you watch it?!" She sneered, smacking my arm.

"Wow, Chance," I actually remember wincing as this passed through my lips, immediately regretting my next few words, "buy some Midol for the sake of us all."

My sister unfortunately had a tendency to overreact during that certain time of month.

And oh was this a good one!

Chance reached for the closest sharp object, which happened to be the handful of spoons that she had been putting away from the dishwasher, and chucking them my way. I gasped and flew up onto the counter, dodging all but one. Which ended up hitting me square in the center of the forehead. The rest clattered loudly to the tile floors, shimmying against the hard surface so that their metallic rings continued for a few seconds.

I pushed the palm of my head against the future bruise and mumbled curse words under my breath.

"You are a CRAZY PERSON!" I screamed down the hall as she stormed back towards her bedroom. I hoped that she would take my advice but somehow doubted that the PMS would be any less severe when she chose to reemerge.

After that exciting escapade I had fewer minutes to get ready and ended up hopping into the truck with less than five minutes before school.

I met a warm smile with one of my own and felt the irritation from my sisterly brawl fall away.

"Excited about school?" He asked, switching the radio station dial.

"You betcha," I laid the sarcasm on way thick; I couldn't think of a place that I wouldn't have chosen over school. And that included back in the kitchen with Chance.

"C'mon sour puss look at the bright side."

"Hm? Let's see…seven hours locked in rooms with old people spitting words like spectrophotometer, romanticism, Monterrey, and law of cosines at you. What bright side could I possibly be missing?"

He laughed aloud, tilting his head back and allowing his teeth to gleam in the light from the window.

"Did Chance kick you on your way out or something?" He mused. I chuckled lightly and punched him in the arm.

"No, she just threw a spoon at my face, no big," I said, rubbing the sore spot on my head. His eyes grew wide and he reached over, pushing my bangs out of the way to see the spot.

"Claire!"

"What?" I murmured, suddenly regretting having told him.

"Why the _hell _would Chance throw a metal object at your skull?"

"Sisterly love."

"You're not being funny."

"Okay, okay," I retreated, pulling away from his probing hand, "she was just in a bad mood this morning and I made a rude comment about it and she…expressed herself in an atypical manner."

He raised his eyebrows in the most theatrically unbelieving expression I could imagine.

"You can't be serious."

"It's not that big of a deal," I promised. He didn't seem to agree though.

"Does your sister suffer from toxic anger syndrome or something?"

"No, Quil. She suffers from PMS."

I said this so matter-of-factly that I actually watched the blush bloom beneath his dark skin, his eyes darting away from mine. It was amusing how macho the wolves were until you brought up anything that had to do with womanly processes.

"Well…don't let her do that-erm- anymore," he stuttered, beyond embarrassed. I laughed and shook my head, groaning inwardly as I saw the school's walls approaching.

"I don't _really_ have to go to school, right?"

"Get out, Claire," Quil joked, laughing underneath his words. I stuck my bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout and he gently pushed me towards the door, shaking his own head and rolling his eyes.

The classes passed dreadfully slowly, each teacher more boring than the last. Camille and I had Physics together before lunch. I sighed in relief once I saw her, blowing a large bubble with her gum, in our usual seats. I threw myself into the chair and fell onto the desk.

"How was Quil this morning?" Cam asked sweetly, popping the bubble with her teeth.

"Mad," I laughed.

"Why?"

"Chance threw a spoon, wait sorry, multiple spoons at me this morning."

"Ha, I love your sister," Cam commented, chuckling. I looked over to her and attempted a glare. "What?" Cam demanded, still laughing.

"She bruised my forehead with a metal utensil!"

"Oh come one Claire. That is the funniest situation to imagine, admit it."

I only groaned and turned back to the front of the room where the teacher had taken his place. My mind started to wander as he began listing the formulas to determine the amount of work performed by simple machines when given the weight of the load and direction of spin. I wondered uselessly what Quil was doing right then.

The class scattered as the bell rang, eager to get to lunch. Cam and I stumbled out into the crowded hall together but somehow along the way she had drifted to a different part of the passageway. I set my backpack down at the corner of my next classroom and began walking towards the lunchroom when I saw Casey coming towards me, and fast.

I tried to duck around the next corner but felt a firm grasp around my bicep. He immediately released me as I spun around.

"Claire, please, can we talk?" His eyes glistened pleadingly, his hands tucked mercilessly against his sides.

"I- well…it's not that good of a—"

"Just talk, I swear," he pledged, pointing towards a bench beneath some trees by the parking lot. I shrugged and followed him there, my hands shaking the whole way.

We sat down as far away from each other as possible.

"I—erm…well I wanted to apologize, Claire," he whispered, running a hand through his hair. I nodded, looking down to the knots my fingers were making with one another. "I don't have any excuse for what I did, I'm just so sorry."

We sat there for a few uncomfortable seconds, the silence breathing down the back of our necks. I shifted in my seat and glanced sideways to Casey. He was staring at me, his eyes pained. I looked him in the eye and noticed a small scar on the left side of his nose.

"I've just tried to forget about it, Casey," I said softly, running my fingers along the lines of the wood beneath me, "honestly."

"I just…liked you so much," he maintained quietly, resting an elbow on his knee, "I just thought that I could make you like me back…_you had to like me back._ I kept saying that to myself, desperate to keep you."

I bit my lip, restraining the tears that wanted to come. I loved Quil. But that didn't keep me from feeling awful about what had happened with Casey. I hadn't exactly broken it off completely with him before my heart blabbered out everything about Quil. I felt something tickle my fingers and looked down to see Casey's hand on mine, gently stroking the back of my palm.

He smiled when I didn't immediately recoil and squeezed my fingers between his.

"I suggest you get as far away from her as you can in the next three seconds unless you want a second scar on your face," an angry snarl came from in front of us. Quil stood rigidly less than two feet from me. His eyes were fiery as he glowered at Casey.

Casey jumped up and looked apologetically back at me, turning and then walking in the direction of the cafeteria.

"Quil!" I seethed.

"Claire!" He returned.

"He was apologizing!"

"Last time he tried to talk you into something I remember him pinning you to a wall!" His face was flushed red. I sighed deflated and glanced to my feet. The laces were sprawled out over the sidewalk, untidy and wet. Quil flopped onto the bench beside me. I pressed my nose against his shoulder and breathed deeply, allowing the smell to calm my nerves. "I was here because you left your math binder on the floor of my car."

He pulled the orange folder from underneath his arm and tucked it into my lap.

"Thanks," I muttered. He stood and ruffled my hair. He stared for a long time at the direction that Casey had run off in. I shivered a little bit as some of the rain blew under the branches of the tree. Quil uncharacteristically was wearing a hoodie and tugged it off, tossing it into my chest.

"Keep that," he stated, his eyes still glued to Casey's path of retreat, "please keep out of harm's way and I'll pick you up at three," he said and then turned back to the parking lot, jogging through the sheet of constant rain to his parked truck.

I stuffed my arms into the sweatshirt and stuck my head through the hood. It was deliciously warm and smelled like the wet bark of spring shoots. I wound into its embrace and snuggled into its softness, at least I'd have something to get me through the day.

The bell rang electronically, pulling me forcefully from my reverie. I sprang up and trotted to geometry, my forgotten binder under my arm.

* * *

_Author's note- Leave a review. thanks :) _


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's note: Anybody else ever wanted to go on a camping trip with werewolves?_

_Disclaimer. _

* * *

"Camping?" My question fell damply into the humid air, lingering stupidly as the football game blared from the television. 

"What Quil? Too grown up to camp now?" Embry called from Emily's kitchen, shoveling a couple hot dogs onto his plate.

"Shut it, Call," I growled, throwing a small football to little Harry. He ran through the living room, spinning as he caught the pass and diving into the carpet at the end of the room.

"Touchdown!!" He yelled, jumping up and down.

"Wait to go, tyke," Sam said, smiling at his only son and capturing him beneath his elbow, rubbing the top of his head with his fist.

"I just don't understand _why _we're going camping," I continued, missing the Redskins' second field goal.

"It'll be a good time, Quil," Jake said from beside me, grabbing the ball from Harry and spinning it up into the air.

"It's just some bonding time," Emily explained, setting a pan of cornbread onto the coffee table. "And you get to bring Claire," she mentioned, smirking at my suddenly elated expression.

I felt the butterflies in the pit of my stomach wake up, tickling my abdomen uncomfortably. I bit my lip to keep from smiling. I guess I could like camping after all.

"I'm going to bring Kim," Jared voiced through a mouthful of food.

"The more the merrier," Emily smiled, shuffling back into the kitchen. I could feel Sam's steely glare on the side of my face but kept my eyes to the television, set on avoiding his comment.

"No funny business, Ateara," the alpha swore, "got it?"

I nodded curtly and strained my cheek muscles, resisting a huge grin.

Hopefully she'd want to come.

* * *

"Camping?" I wondered aloud, a little taken aback by the offer. 

"That's what I said when they first brought it up," Quil mentioned as he bit into the apple in his hands.

"Who all's going?"

"The pack, Emily, Kim, and you," he pointed to me, smacking the meat of the fruit in his mouth. I could feel the excitement as it balled in my chest, rolling round and round.

"Okay," I agreed, nodding my head quickly. He smiled, resting his chin on his suspended wrist. "When do we leave?"

"Tonight, I think," he said, scratching his head, "I'll ask Emily what time."

I nodded again and looked around my room.

"Wanna help me pack?" I asked, chuckling loosely.

"Sure," his response was muffled by the mouthful of apple. He threw the core out of my open window and walked over to the window seat. "Let's start with this," he grabbed up my Gibson case and locked it tightly, swiping one of my picks off of the dresser.

We'd thrown together a duffel bag in thirty minutes or so and were standing at my doorway, scanning over the items in my room, making sure we didn't forget anything. Quil darted to the floor quickly and stuffed his sweatshirt into my arms.

"In case you get cold again," he said, smiling as he grabbed one of the sleeve cuffs and rubbed it in my face.

"Okay…that was not necessary," I laughed, pushing the cloth from my nose.

"It was though…you're cute when you wrinkle your nose."

I blushed and covered my face with the sweatshirt, breathing in the still sultry scent that clung to its fabric. He chuckled and threw my duffel bag over his shoulder, holding the front door open for me. We strolled slowly over to Emily and Sam's, where everyone was meeting, enjoying the fact that it wasn't raining. The clouds were still thick, barely letting the sunshine through.

"Claire," Em sang, loping towards me and crushing me into a hug.

"I've missed you, Em!" I cooed in return, keeping hold of her hands as we parted. She squeezed my fingers in excitement and nodded.

"We have a lot to talk about, missy," she reminded me, giving me a sideways stare as she turned around to continue helping the boys pack and the kids get settled in with the babysitter.

Kim attacked me next, from behind. She ran at me and jumped on my back, throwing her arms over my neck.

"Claire I am going to hold onto you until the sun goes down!" She squealed, cozying up with my cheeks from behind. "I haven't seen you in two months!"

I patted her arm and pressed my chin into her forearms, pretty much the only parts of her I could reach. I heard the phone ring inside the house and gulped as Emily came jogging into the front yard.

"C, your mom's on the phone and cannot recall you asking to go on this excursion," my aunt chided, the phone against her ear and Bailey on her hip. I grimaced and winced at Em, mouthing for her to fix it. She rolled her eyes and pointed the phone at me, motioning me to come and answer it.

I sighed as Kim jumped off of my back and trudged towards the phone.

"Hello?" I winced at her sharp response.

"Claire!"

"Yes, mom?"

"You did not ask permission to go on a camping trip," she scolded; I could hear her tapping her fingernails against the counter.

"Sorry," I spoke quietly and paused, chewing on my cheek and weighing my options, "mom, can I go on a camping trip?"

She hissed out a long breath and I kept waiting for the rebuttal, probably to be delivered as a scream.

"When will you be back?"

I turned to Emily and asked.

"Sunday morning," she replied as I cupped my hand over the end of the phone.

I put my mouth back to the receiver, "Sunday."

"No shenanigans, Claire," she warned, still tapping.

"Come on, mom, I'm not a shenanigans type of girl, you know that," I joked, laughing subtly. She heaved out a gentle chuckle and asked for Quil, weirdly enough.

"Quil!" I yelled, he came over and grabbed the portable. I spun away but stayed close enough to hear my mom's voice on the other side.

"Hello?" He said.

"Keep my daughter safe," my mom replied quietly. I held back a slight gasp at the pain in my chest, she was just worried.

I felt my heart pulse in sorrow and ache a little bit. She hadn't been around much since…well for awhile. She'd had to take on two jobs. I'd been sour about it for a couple of years but in the end I think she knew that Quil would always be there for me, and Chance had been old enough to function without too much backing.

I blinked back the water that begged to drip over my eyelids; it's easy to think that when your family breaks that the worst pain will be that ordeal. But the things that follow, the empty spaces, there much, much worse.

"Of course," Quil replied swiftly, clicking off the line.

"What'd she say?" I couldn't help but wonder if he'd tell me.

"Nothing."

"Okay," I murmured as he put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me against his side. If there was a place where safety could be found, it was most certainly where I was standing.

"Quil," Sam called, eyeing our positioning, "bags." He pointed over to the pile that was accumulating behind the three trucks' beds.

We were packed into the cars within the next hour. Quil drove one truck, me in front, Jacob, Embry, and Seth in the back seat.

"Let's play never have I ever," Seth said loudly from the back seat. The two in the back snickered and agreed holding up their fingers.

"No," Quil demanded loudly.

"Why not, Quil? Done any sneaky things lately?" Seth teased, nudging the back of his seat with a foot.

"My car, my rules."

"Hey now— I practically built this car, Quil!" Jacob called.

"I bought it, it's mine," he finished. I choked on the laugh that begged to crawl up my throat, filling my cheeks.

"C'mon Claire, reason with him!" Embry asked, tucking his head over my head rest. I glanced slowly over to Quil who kept his stare forward.

"Don't be boring, Quil," I whined, smiling hugely. He looked over and seemed a little angry until he saw my expression and melted.

"I'm not playing," he compromised sourly, sinking into his seat.

* * *

"I never ever want to play that game _ever _again," I stated as I slid down from the passenger seat, onto the freshly dewed bracken of the woods. 

I was still holding back my surprise and disgust over everything that had just been spilled. The three in the back had thought it all to be hilarious and honest, playboy magazines, pinups, alcohol, size comparisons, and all. I groaned inwardly at the thought that the game's statements would be in my head for a very, very long time. I grimaced, noting that I would never be able to look at those three the same ever again.

Seth wrapped an arm around my neck and pulled me into his armpit, headlocking me.

"That was atrocious," I said, my mouth muffled against his elbow, "I can't believe you guys would say those things in front of me!"

"Well its only fun to play the game when outsiders are around anyways, since everyone in the pack knows everybody else's secrets anyways," he revealed, squeezing me tighter against his ribs. "Can you guess why Quil didn't want to play?" He taunted. I felt the entire top half of my body blush and began to struggle beneath the grasp.

"Do you mind letting the captive free for a couple seconds, Seth?" Emily demanded, her expression condescending in a motherly way, "she needs to help me set up for dinner."

I felt the pressure lift and a gentle shove on my shoulders.

"Run along innocent one," Seth mocked, laughing lowly.

"I'd like to keep her that way if you don't mind," Sam stated dryly, appearing behind the chuckling boy. Seth straightened up and restrained everything into a small smirk.

I wasn't really sure how much more embarrassing this day could get.

Emily, Kim and I set up dinner as the boys set up the tents and fire. There were six tents in all, four for the wolves and one for us. Sam and Em would share a tent, the boys paired off after that, and then Leah, Kim and I would have one to ourselves. As the boys busied themselves Emily decided it was chat time.

"So, Claire, who was that cute boy I saw you with at the supermarket that one day?"

Awkward.

"Um, Casey?"

"Oh yeah, that's the one," she paused, pretending to act disinterested, "how's he doing?"

"I wouldn't really know."

I can't be sure but I would have sworn that she hid a smile.

"Why not?" She probed.

How could I explain this without being too in-depth?

"We had…a tiff I guess you could say."

I began setting the forks and plates alongside one another.

"Tiff?"

"Mhm."

I felt eyes on me and turned my head to see a piqued Quil looking towards me, I smiled towards him and he returned it, feeling comfortable enough to go back to shoving pins into the ground.

"And how are you and Quil?" She continued. I felt all the color drain from my face. Is there anyone else I would hate to discuss this in front of more than my aunt, uncle, and every single one of Quil's friends who were merely pretending not to listen?

I think not.

"Fine, like always," I replied. She caught my eye, flickering her eyes to his crouched stance over a stake in the ground.

She nodded and continued to stir the chili that was bubbling over the fresh fire.

"Good to hear," she comforted, asking for a bag of shredded cheese.

We were in the middle of the forest, I wish I would have known where. The trees reached high enough to tickle the low lying clouds, their branches bushy enough to scatter the downpours of early morning to light showers.

The thick, damp bracken made the ground forgiving and silent. It seemed that someone could walk into these forests, never to be found again, their trail sucked into the wet floor of the sublime forestry.

After about thirty more minutes, minor wounds from thrown stakes (thank you Embry), and grumbling over immaturity on everyone's parts, Em called everyone around the fire for dinner.

Sam had set up a tarp over the fire, keeping us from getting rained on, with a hole at the middle that allowed the smoke to escape.

The boys swallowed the pot of chili in less than five minutes and munched aimlessly on the bread rolls and corn on the cobs that Em and Kim had made along with it. The flames wavered in the center, the tips gleaming and dancing. My eyes were drawn to its spontaneity, its unpredictability. Bands of fire would reach higher than others before being tethered back into the center, drawn to the wooden fuel beneath them.

Quil walked slowly over to me and set the guitar case in my lap.

"Play for us, Claire," he requested, letting his fingertips brush over mine as the case was lowered. I lowered my eyelids, a little hesitant.

"C'mon, let's hear it," a common consensus was murmured around the fire, Kim pushing my shoulder from beside me.

"Alright," I acquiesced, unlatching the locks and resting the instrument against my thighs.

"New guitar, Claire?" Sam asked. I nodded.

"Quil gave it to me for my birthday."

"Awwww," the chorus of coos rang up around the fire. I blushed madly and yanked my pick out from the case, plucking a few random notes.

I took the moment to look around at everybody. Seth and Leah were next to each other, one engaged, the other sullen and distant. Embry's legs were crossed as he leaned over the fire, poking the fiery logs with a long twig. Kim was snuggled into Jared's lap, her eyes alive with the spirit of the fire. Sam had his arms around Emily, whispering gently into her ear every once and awhile. Jacob and Paul were also next to each other, silent and pensive. Quil sat next to me, a comfortable distance away. The shadows from the flames played over his features.

I began the opening bars to a pretty new song and began to hum the lyrics calmly beneath the notes. Quil's hand came to rest around my back and I couldn't hold back my smile. I sang the chorus aloud, feeling the music sift into the atmosphere, livening each and every whisper in the wind.

There's nothing better than a campfire, surrounded by the ones you love and who love you most.

* * *

_Author's note- A comprehensive and entertaining chapter, I hope. Leave any and all thoughts, questions, comments, whatever!! Thanks for reading:).  
_


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's note- The lyrics are fitting and sweet, take the time to read them. I hope you enjoy!_

_Disclaimer.  
_

* * *

The warm-toned light bathed her face, making her cheeks a little redder than usual with heat. Her voice was wholesome and clear, making my heart rise and fall with its syllables.

_"__Take time to realize, _

_t__hat your warmth is._

_Crashing down on in._

_Take time to realize_

_That I am on your side_

_Didn't I, Didn't I tell you.__"_

The words swam up into the air, serenely interrupting the immobility of the smoke. Her eyelashes curled against her cheeks as her eyes followed the paths that her fingers wove over the strings, plucking music from the wired bands.

_"__But I can't spell it out for you, _

_No, it's never __gonna__ be that simple_

_No, I can't spell it out for you__"_

Her hair hung to the side of her face, shining in the light, each glossy strand reflective and free. Her lips persuaded sounds from her breaths, the notes that she sung warming sweetly up in her throat.

_"__If you just realize what I just realized, _

_then we'd be perfect for each oth__er_

_and will never find another—__"_

The others were silent, their eyes frozen to Claire. I could see the surprise on some of their faces. Most of them had never heard her play before, the way she could tease brilliance out of an instrument that seemed too cliché to master.

_"__J__ust realized what I just realized_

_we'd never have to wonder _

_if __we miss__ed out on each other now."_

I remembered then that I had never really heard Claire sing before. I closed my eyes and let her voice bathe me in its sensuality and breadth.

_"__Take time to realize_

_I'm on your side_

_didn't __I__, didn't I tell you._

_Take time to realize_

_this__ all can pass you by…__"_

_"__Didn't__ I tell you?__"_

The words rang perfectly into my ears, my entire body relaxing at the sound of her. I rubbed her back lightly, noticing that she had my sweatshirt on still. I smiled inwardly.

_"__It's not always the same_

_no, it's never the same_

_if you don't feel it to__o._

_If you meet me half way_

_i__f you would meet me half way._

_It could be the same for you.__"_

Kim's eyes were locked with Jared's, a moment of understanding passing between the two. It was amazing, the love that could ensue an imprint. Their bodies even seemed to know each other and recognize the other as its perfect match. Sam was stroking the side of Emily's face with the back of his hand. It was weird at first, to see how tender he was with her versus the role he took with us.

_"__If you just realized what I just realized_

_then we'd be perfect for each other,_

_t__hen we'd never find another__."_

I couldn't wait to share that with Claire. My hand traveled to her shoulder, gently squeezing it. I saw her lips tilt up slightly as she continued to enchant.

_"__Just realized what I just realized_

_we'd never have to wonder _

_just realized what I just realized.__"_

She strummed through the ending bars, humming and rowing out into the hush. Everyone remained silent, stunned into stillness.

"I never knew you could play like that," Embry said from across the fire, his eyes wide. I peeked over to Claire and saw her blush minimally, letting her hair fall in front of her face.

Kim clapped slowly, a kindly smile on her lips.

"Anyone else want s'mores?" Emily said, standing from her position on the ground. We all agreed and began searching out long sticks that could work. I sat down next to Claire, handing her one.

"Thanks," she smirked, scratching the underside of her neck with the palm of her hand. The firelight flickered in her eyes like fireflies. She looked away from me and frowned, her perfect lips pressing together, "where's Jake going?" She asked.

I glanced over and saw Jake retreating into the shadows of the trees. My heart twinged, familiar to his pain through his own head.

"He has a hard time sometimes around—well at things like this," I struggled to find the right words.

"Things like what?"

Always curious. Always.

"Jacob loved this girl once and it didn't turn out as he'd planned, he's never been able to forget it...let alone move on," I sighed, adjusting closer to her side. She unconsciously leaned towards me, the broad of her back against my arm and I felt my heart throb with contentment, "so it's hard to be around Kim, Jared, Sam, Emily…" I paused awkwardly.

"Me and you, too?" She added without prodding. I nodded and pressed against her a little closer.

"It's not that he doesn't enjoy seeing us happy," I began to draw small figures in the dust beneath my feet, "it just hurts, that's all."

She hummed understandingly and turned her face against my shoulder, blowing out her breath. My skin tingled where her lips came into contact with it, the oxygen from her lungs prickling over my skin. I felt her take in a deep breath and smiled, she liked the way I smelled.

"What are you doing?" I laughed, completely aware of exactly what she was doing.

"Enjoying the way you smell," she said smartly, leaning her cheek against my bicep.

"And how is that?"

She pursed her lips and her eyebrows formed a 'v' as she thought it over.

"Lots of things," she summed up.

"Things, like what?" I was being mischievous and I knew it.

"Like fresh ground earth with that smell that comes when you pinch pine needles between your fingers," she brought the tips of her pointer and thumb together, "and the salt spray of the sea," she muttered faintly.

I smiled and pressed my lips to the top of her head after a quick check to make sure Sam wasn't close enough to see. I breathed in and wondered about how Claire smelled to me.

It was impossible to describe. She'd always smelled sweet, a sort of springy scent when she was younger, a bright smell.

And then it began to change when she turned about thirteen; it became more supple, darker, deeper. Those nights I had snuck in through her window I remember that I was literally overwhelmed by it. Her body radiated it, especially as it soaked in the heat beneath her covers. When she would kick them off I would nearly stumble backwards. It took every restraint that I had taught myself over the years to keep from taking advantage of her right then. It was this alluring, dulcet pull that intoxicated me to no end. I drank it in, closing my eyes and resting my face in her hair.

She adjusted a little bit, positioning her guitar back into her lap and picking at the strings. After a couple seconds she began playing Cumbaya, much to Embry and Seth's delight. They wrapped long arms around their neighbors' shoulders and began to sway, crooning the redundant chorus into the night.

It wasn't long before we had all twined around one another and began chuckling through the words, keeping time with Claire's strums. Emily took the opportunity to set out all of the stuff for dessert and as we finished she insisted that we start with the mallows.

Embry and I took eight each, spearing each meticulously while Claire grabbed a measly two. I glanced over and rolled my eyes motioning for her to get closer to the fire with us. We rolled the mallows round and round, browning them all over. I winced as Claire's caught on fire, quickly reaching and putting them out myself.

"I could have done that myself," she pouted. And risked burning her face? Or a piece of her hair catching and igniting the rest?

"You would've burned yourself."

"No, I would not!" She insisted, her expression bending pugnaciously, "watch."

She stuck them down against the log and brought the flames up towards her face.

"Claire, don't!" I yelled, wrenching the stick from her and dowsing it in the water bucket that Emily placed strategically next to Embry. My heart was racing. It was ridiculous what could set me off.

She glared at me, half frustrated, half amused.

"Please do not purposely put flaming objects near your face."

"Can you, _please_, go get me more marshmallows then?" She purred indignantly. I handed mine to Embry and grabbed two more from Emily, firing them myself.

I folded them carefully between the chocolate and graham crackers, handing the finished snack to her.

"I feel like a kid," she said, biting off a piece and licking off the chocolate that melted over her lips. I was a second away from kissing it off myself when Sam's carefully fixed stare caught the corner of my eye. I groaned internally and tensed my hands.

"You are a kid," Embry chuckled. I socked him in the arm, if there was one way to irritate Claire it was to bring up her age.

"Oh please Embry as if you have room to speak!" She spat good-humoredly, "go grab some more pop tarts and we'll talk it over."

I rolled my eyes and bit back into the crackers. But suddenly it wasn't the smell of soot and chocolate that raided my sinuses. I straightened up immediately, eyeing Sam.

We all made eye contact; Kim and Emily closed in around Claire and bent down next to her.

"They shouldn't be here," Jacob said, appearing silently behind Sam.

"I don't think it's the girl's pack," Paul said, "I would have recognized the big one's scent from…that one time." He bit his lip after Sam and Jacob glared his way.

"Let's go," Sam commanded stonily. My stomach clenched.

"I can't leave her," I voiced, my hands shaking as I glanced to Claire.

"You don't have a choice, Quil," he declared authoritatively, "they're a ways away from here— she'll be fine."

I reached down and pulled her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her slim silhouette.

"Stay in the tent, stay with Em and Kim," I whispered against her ear, "I'll be back soon. We should be able to handle it quickly with all of us here."

She nodded, her eyes twitching nervously to Emily's and back.

"Love you," she mouthed as I unwrapped myself from her, the worry and panic that pierced my heart was beyond painful.

I looked purposely to Emily and met strong eyes. With that I sprinted off behind everyone else, Claire's eyes blinking anxiously behind my eyelids.

I phased and ran between Embry and Jacob, the thoughts undulating between us.

_Why are they here?_

_How many?_

_From the smell of it probably three, no more than four._

We shifted our course as the scent pulsated through the air, turning to the southwest.

_Shit._

They were much closer than we thought.

* * *

_Author's note- That was "Realize" by Colbie Caillat. It's really a great song and her voice is musky, kind of the way I envision Claire singing. If you have the chance to download it, definitely do. Thanks for reading! Review :)_


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's note- Don't worry, more to come. Wish it to come sooner? Review :)_

_Disclaimer._

* * *

My entire body trembled as he sped away, his ferociously panicked eyes burnt into my skull. Emily gathered me in her arms and jogged towards one of the trucks. We clambered in and sunk into the vinyl, all of us gasping and near tears. 

"The—the-y—they'll be fine, Claire," Kim said through chattering teeth. "They do this all the time," she nodded, her shifty eyes betraying the sincerity in her voice.

My eyes quivered and I felt my cheeks go hot, my mind reeling. I wrapped my hands tightly around the handle of the doors that Em had locked. My Aunt's hands came to my shoulders, warm and tight. My eyes bore through the glass of the window, hating the sheen of showers that reduced visibility to only about ten feet. Even so I stared at the flat shadows that clung to the trees and floor, waiting for the emergence of anything wolf or human.

I only saw one pair of eyes through it all, they were brown. His long lashes batted up and down as he peeked up at me, speckles of green and yellow sprinkled through his irises. I prayed with all my might.

The ground began to shake, causing the car to shift back and forth on its wheels. Kim and Em whimpered, grabbing hold of me. The rain pelted the windows with a renewed vigor like beats on a snare drum. The trees around the trucks groaned, their trunks bending with the quakes. We jumped as some of the branches clawed at the sides, dragging out long metallic moans.

And then the howling started.

My hands pressed against the rims of my ears, trying to save my eardrums from the deep cries that were so loud that the windows shook. The sounds got closer, turning to snarls and snaps. I lowered my hands back to the door and pressed my face close to the glass, my breath fogging the window up badly enough to reach my eye line.

And then we saw them.

* * *

Our feet pounded the ground in unison, our heads working as one. The smell intensified, flaring my instincts. 

We neared a small outcrop of rock and crept up close to the ground, the rain persisting to nail our fur, soaking us down and drilling into our nostrils. It made my skin crawl, knowing how close we were to camp. All I could see was Claire, her deer-in-headlights stare as I ran into the forest, leaving her unprotected.

_There._

Sam said. We all froze, waiting for his move. And then we jumped.

I landed in front of one of the females.

_Three in all._

Sam growled in his head. Seth was beside me and we pursued her as she shot into the surrounding woods, her white body moving like a ghost between the trees. The rain gave the already prism-like skin a sheen that made it seem like she was glowing, her red eyes blaring as she turned around to keep track of us.

_One done._

Jacob said. Seth and I quickened, closing in on her small lead. Her strawberry blonde hair billowed out behind her, whipping her sickly scent into the wind.

_Second down._

Jared said. Seth and I heaved our breaths, galloping through the mud and flooded undergrowth.

_She's faster than the rest._

Seth said as we flew past a tight knot of trees. Sam and the rest said they weren't far behind. The girl's lithe form darted and spun, turning and flying. I cursed in my head and forced my paws to claw deeper into the ground, propelling me faster through the rain. And then my heart flew out of my chest as I realized what the girl was following.

The smell of our camp, Kim, Emily. I gulped, Claire.

I howled bitterly into the night and felt the growl brew deeply in my throat, erupting as a roar. I could see the female ahead flinch. My muscles burned as I soared, my eyes scalding from the wind and rain. The rest howled nastily, having seen my realization. Sam and Jared were immediately at my flanks, the three of us powering through the wind. Our lips were curled back, our deadly incisors clicking together. The pack followed, continuing to howl.

The females quick feet didn't even seem to touch the ground; she was less than seven feet in front of us. Her body dodged the branches like she had wings; her breaths labored enough to hear. And then I saw the embers of the campfire.

I growled and threw myself at the girl, my teeth grinding through her flag of hair. She screamed and snapped, slowing enough to tumble but still quick enough to duck out of Jared and Sam's grasps. I saw Claire's precious face against the window of Sam's truck, tears streaming down her cheeks. I cut towards the truck and screeched to a halt in front of the passenger door, facing the female. I could hear Claire's screams behind me and her hands as they beat on the window. My heart beat excruciatingly hard in my chest. Breaths flew in and out of my chest, my ribs aching and throbbing. I saw Sam and Jared begin to circle the girl and looked back to Claire.

Her eyes were wide as saucers, her balled fists flush with the glass of the window.

_Quil! _

One of the pack yelled.

_Watch out!_

I turned only to see the female as she barreled towards me, her teeth exposed like daggers, glittering in the light of the stars. I braced and hauled my shoulders forward. She rushed into me, her stone body snapping a few of my ribs. And then I felt myself crush into the side of the truck. My heart stopped.

The female's teeth dug into the flesh of my neck, the venom searing against my skin. I kicked my forceful legs out as howls flew from my mouth, the pain making my head scream. Sam and Jacob yanked her off of me, all the rest shredding her limbs as she cried out.

I fell to the ground, clenching my teeth against the agony that ran through me like rails. I looked up to see the truck's passenger side crunched, the seat overturned into the driver's well. I dragged myself up from the ground and clawed the door open, collapsing at what I saw.

Emily and Kim lay slumped in the back seat, their shoulders shuddering. Inky spots began spilling over my eyes. I tried to call for Claire; it came out as a whimper.

And then Em turned, my love in her lap with her eyes closed and still. The black spots began puncturing my eyes. I saw a crimson ribbon fall across Claire's face, the bead of blood dripping to the tip of her nose. I reached towards her as the pressure in my chest and heart increased.

And then everything disintegrated into a thorny darkness.

* * *

_Author's note- Leave 'em. I know you're dying to do so. _


	15. Chapter 15

_Author's note- And to continue the drama..._

_Disclaimer. _

* * *

_Please._

The word hummed idly through my pounding head.

_Please._

Again it reverberated in the whirling darkness that was pressing down on me.

_Claire._

My eyes wavered, quivering open and then rolling back shut. There was rustling beneath me. The scene flickered back in my head, snapshots. I saw Quil, wolf Quil, standing in front of the car door as something, or rather, someone lunged towards him. And then everything ends, like film that has been snipped in the middle. 

_C'mon girl._

I tried opening my eyes again, shrinking into the warm legs beneath me. Emily brushed hair back from my eyes as she dabbed a towel at my forehead, her lap the one under me. I looked forward and saw Sam; his eyes were red and full of water. My heart nearly stopped making my breath catch. Sam…crying? That was unheard of. He blinked quickly and scraped the back of his hands over his eyes, careful to make sure no one but me saw it. 

"Don't do that to us again, C." He breathed into my hair, sniffling one last time. I bowed my head to his touch, tender unlike anything I expected from him. I realized then too that he had been the one cooing me back to consciousness. Emily's fingers continued to rove over my sore skin, putting pressure against places that hurt more than others. My heart screeched to a halt as Sam stood, revealing what was beside him. 

Embry and Jacob were struggling to hold Quil still as Kim wrapped soaked gauze around his thigh. He was biting down hard on his lip, hissing as the bandage was wound tighter. My eyes examined his skin, counting each scratch. There was a deep pressure in my chest and pains in my sternum and ribs. I winced at each influx. 

I saw that the moon was past half way in the sky, past midnight? Already? 

I tried to talk, lifting my tongue to the lid of my mouth. But as the air came up my throat I began coughing dryly, the pipe having opened too wide for comfort. Emily immediately sat me up as Sam placed a hand on my back and began hitting my shoulder blades firmly. I held my hands over my mouth, shivers crawling down my spine each time my body jerked. I felt the hot water spill into my hands, but I asked for a towel while my hands were still around my mouth. I didn't want anyone to see this. 

Emily held up the rag and I snatched it quickly. I wiped my lips first, turning from Sam. I felt a hot hand close around my wrist and pull it towards them. I heard a deep gasp.

"Claire," Quil's voice was broken, "you're coughing up blood." 

My Aunt's eyes widened and she put her hands against my face, forcing me to look straight at her. She asked me to open my mouth and noticed the blood that was between my teeth. Sam grabbed my hands and watched as the crimson streams dribbled off of them and into the forest floor. 

No one seemed to know what to say, how to say it, or if they should say anything at all. Embry grumbled to his left.

"Jake, call the hospital." 

Everyone seemed to snap awake at that. Emily bent down to grab me but her arms were pushed away by Quil's. He hopped into the passenger seat of his truck with me between his elbows. Jacob jumped in to drive, Embry and Seth climbed in back. Sam ushered Emily into the only other functioning truck. 

"Meet you there," Sam called as they pulled out ahead of us. A loud knock against the window kept Jacob's foot on the brake. Embry opened the door slowly.

"Thought you might want this." Paul motioned to the guitar case in his hand, which apart from being covered in a thick layer of red clay looked to be in perfect condition. The passengers in the back pulled it in alongside them in the seat. Jared, Kim, Paul, and Leah stayed behind, beginning to clean up the disaster zone that had once been our campsite. 

"Everything will be okay, Claire," Embry assured me, reaching forward and running a thumb down my cheek.

My head kept lulling to the side, my neck too weak to hold it up enough to see out the window. My arms lay heavily against my side, my feet numb. I stared up at Quil. His eyes were full and wide, pouring over my exposed skin, looking for any wounds. 

He ran his fingers against the gashes in my arms where gummy safety glass had embedded itself in my skin. His palms spread over the purpling bruises on my thighs and shins from being thrown from the seat. He parted the hair beneath my temple to observe the gash that the seatbelt had left in my skull. He slid his arms under my shoulders and froze. 

I groaned as his hand had come into contact with a part of me that hadn't awakened to the pain until then. The part of my chest directly beneath my armpit began to throb. Quil was shaking as he pulled his hand out from next to my side. I winced as I saw it; the scarlet fluid that meant everything was not okay, covering his hand.

"Jake," Quil said sternly, "hurry."

* * *

"Claire Hill?" I nodded as well as I could from my horizontal position as the doctor approached the back-lit display board. My mom was standing beside me, her hand squeezing my shoulder. Quil stood on the other side, his hand on mine. Chance was asleep with a magazine in a chair in the corner of the room. 

He pinned the x-rays into place and stood there for a moment as we all stared at the murky outlines of my insides. The stress on my breastbone seemed to increase at the sight of my innards. He held the others beneath his arm. 

"Claire is suffering from a pneumothorax, a hemopneurmothorax, actually." He pointed to a rib that looked out of place. "This broken rib punctured her lung, severing several of the blood vessels surrounding the air sacs." His finger then moved to a dark splotch on the board. "The thoracic cavity is being pooled with blood which will require minor surgery to remove. The rib will have to be realigned in the procedure as well and an occlusive dressing applied directly to the wound." 

"So you're saying that she needs surgery," Quil said from beside me. The doctor nodded, pulling down the pictures of my heart's cage and replacing it with one of my head.

"The OR expects her at about 4:20 A.M." He lifted his glasses to glance at the clock on the wall. "Nurses will be in to begin prep in about fifteen." He paused and then referred back to the next x-ray. "She suffered a hairline fraction here," he stroked the picture, "in the temporal region of her skull which will heal without too much guidance and about six stitches will be enough to secure the laceration." 

"That all?" Quil growled, touchy. The doctor reviewed his records once more sleepily.

"She sprained her left ankle and will need a brace for three weeks." He pushed his glasses back up and sighed. "That's all." 

My mom huffed and puffed beside me, her heart-shaped face flushed with stress. Her hair was hurriedly thrown into a messy bun and a sweatshirt hung from her shoulders, covering her pajamas. 

"Claire." She brushed hair from my face and cupped my cheek in her hand. "What possibly could have done all this to you?" She asked, knowing I couldn't answer. I just shrugged my shoulders. She kept her eyes on me but spoke to the person to my left. "What happened, Quil?" 

I felt him go stiff.

"Car crash," he said hastily.

"What did the car crash into?" My mother insisted.

"Something in the forest," he replied stonily. I had been holding my breath the whole time. I think my mom knew about the whole werewolf thing because there was no way she would have understood Quil hanging around me so much when I was younger, I just hadn't been sure how extensive her knowledge was. Apparently Quil hadn't included vampires in his job description. 

"Like a tree?" She continued. I saw his face contort minimally as two squat women waddled into the room. He sighed in relief. 

"Everyone out," one of them shooed, "everyone." The nurse eyed Quil. He squeezed my hand and stared deeply into my eyes before turning to leave. 

The other nurse exchanged my I.V. pack for a different one and squeezed the drip down into the tube. 

"Count to one hundred and you'll be asleep." She began removing my pillows to lower my posture. I didn't even get to nine before I went somewhere else.

* * *

Even my eyes felt groggy as I peeled them open. The clock on the wall read 10:17 A.M. 

I noticed a note on the tray table to my right.

_Gone to get breakfast, Claire. Be back asap!_

_Evol,_

_Mom and Chance_

'Evol' was love backwards. It was one of my mom's cutsie things, love feels the same no matter who wears it so she figured it means the same thing if backwards too. I heard a soft grunt to my left and glanced over.

Quil was sleeping, curled onto a couch that would have been too small for me and was definitely too tiny for him. His eyelashes fluttered as he breathed in shakily, his lips trembling. I adjusted so that I could stare at him comfortably. I immediately felt a smile bloom. His dark hair hung lazily over his forehead, his tan skin smooth and taut. His lips looked soft and swollen, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. 

I would've sworn that he had cuts on his face when I had seen him earlier but now they had all but disappeared. I saw his eyes roll as he stretched his impossible long arms out from their currently squished position. He popped one eye open and smiled hugely at me, hurrying to my side.

"Awake, finally?"

"Barely," I mused as he bent down and kissed my forehead gently. He kneeled down so that he could make eye contact with me more easily.

"Claire, I'm so sorry for what happened," he said with conviction, his brown eyes so sincere that they were painful to look at directly.

"No worries," I promised, "look I'm almost better already!" I pointed down to my bandaged limbs. He didn't smile. 

"No, C, you aren't better," he swore. I frowned. I hated when he was self sacrificing. It was all too Romeo for me. So I changed the subject as quickly as possible. 

"Quil, you had cuts and bruises all over you when I first saw you." My words were airy and lacked foundation, my lungs were too tender to do anything too dramatic. He shifted uncomfortably. "Where did they go?" 

"Another werewolf thing," he grunted, "we heal pretty quickly." 

"Wow," I croaked, "you guys are like superheroes." (Now looking back on it I am completely aware that the pain medication was making me loopy. Which is so embarrassing, but–hey— there wasn't much I could do about it anyways.)

He rolled his eyes but smiled, ruffling my hair.

"Hardly," he retorted. I heard a scuffle of nurse shoes outside the door as a flustered whining complaint became audible.

"Only family!" The nurse demanded, holding her hands against Embry's chest as he burst through the door. "Family members are the only ones allowed past this door outside of visitor hours!" She was huffing heavily from effort.

"We are her family," Jacob said as the rest of the pack piled into the room. Seth had a huge bucket of flowers in his arms and set them on my bedside table, my heart felt warmed from the inside out. I grinned humidly as water gathered in my bottom lids.

"Thanks guys," I sniffed and ran my hand across my hot cheeks. Kim and Emily handed me a plate of chocolate chip cookies that said 'Get Well C' on them in icing. I grabbed one and handed the rest back to the boys to be attacked and devoured. Embry folded his elbows onto the end of the bed.

"How ya feelin'?" He inquired. I shrugged and tried to wave it off, wincing as the dressing on my right side stretched a little bit. Embry chuckled lightly.

"Obviously not _too_ good," he stressed, smiling and giving my covers a shake. Sam came to my side and patted my shoulder.

"You look better, kiddo." He smiled. "It's good to see." He winked and turned Quil. "Quil, I do need you to run your courses still though, we're still on high alert after those three got so close last night." 

My heart sped which was embarrassing due to the LCD monitor that everybody could hear. I glanced worriedly over to him. I wasn't sure if I'd be okay here by myself. Quil's eyes snapped to mine, his eyebrows scrunching.

"I'll do them, Sam."

I looked around and saw Jacob had said the words that let my pulse relax.

"Me too," Embry piped up, "we can split them up." 

Sam glanced down to me and nodded. 

"As long as they get done." 

Quil squeezed my hand and referenced his friends quietly as the rest started to head out.

"Thanks guys," he said, "I owe you one." They both nodded and smiled, following the rest back out the door. I heard my mom and Chance arguing with the same nurse outside of the door.

"We're her mother and sister!"

"There is no way that that girl has any more family!" The nurse insisted, her position in front of the door immovable.

"You are ridiculous!" Chance yelled. I grinned and spoke up.

"Throw some spoons at her, Chance!" 

My mom glanced through the nurse's arms towards me and gave me a very tired, worried stare.

"I'm fine, mom. You can go home and sleep a little bit if you guys want," I said it loudly enough to make sure she could hear me clearly. Mom looked then to Quil.

"You'll stay here with her?" She asked.

He nodded. "Of course." 

Mom smiled and blew me a kiss, mouthing 'thank you' and 'be back later.' The nurse thankfully yanked the door closed with a sigh.

I felt a warm body roll next to me on the bed and turned into his hot chest, kissing his exposed neck. He sucked in his breath quickly in response, hardening beside me. I chuckled lightly to myself and burrowed into his worn t-shirt. He smelled like he always did, my dream of perfect comfort.

"I love you, Claire," he whispered into the crown of my head, his breath filtering over my hair, giving me goose bumps, "I won't ever let anything hurt you again." 

I smiled into his shirt.

"Love you," I replied and then my medication helped me to drift away.

* * *

_Author's note- Thanks for the read! I hope it was enjoyable! Leave a review and let me know!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's note- Cute stuff, fluff, a revelation or two. Enjoy_

_Disclaimer. _

* * *

I stared at the bright computer screen, willing the words to come to me. My history paper was so far about eight words long, including my name, the date, and assignment. The chair squeaked beneath me as I spun in semicircles. The digital clock's numbers glowed in the dark, the only light in the room other than my computer screen.

12:36.

I groaned and slouched against my keyboard. That's what I got for waiting until the night before it was due to start my paper. I wondered how bad I would have to make my voice sound in order to make my mom believe I had strep throat.

I sighed loudly and grabbed my guitar from the floor, strumming it quietly. I had just bought Jason Myles Goss' new album and it was singing from my computer. I played along with the chords, the guitar resting against my bare thighs. Now that June had rolled around it had been too humid and stuffy to sleep in anything more than a tank top and boy shorts underwear.

I hummed to myself, closing my eyes as my hands continued to strike the strings. I appreciated that Mom and Chance were heavy, heavy sleepers. I decided absent-mindedly that I hated history and finals. My history teacher had decided that a paper would be our final; when really he was just too lazy to write up an actual exam.

I felt hot lips press against my neck and gasped, falling onto the floor. Quil laughed and set me back on my feet, a huge smile on his face.

He stepped back and grabbed a pair of my sleep pants from a drawer, throwing them at me. I blushed intensely and tugged them on tightly, forgetting that I hadn't been wearing anything at all. Quil ran a hand over his eyes and glanced back to make sure I was finished.

"Do you sleep in that every night?"

"No," I said, still blushing, "it was too hot for pants."

"Maybe I should stop by more in the middle of the night once it gets hot then," he joked, sitting down onto my computer chair. "Claire, you should be in bed," he scolded, frowning at the clock.

"Yeah…" I drew out. "Wait! Why are you here?" I asked.

"I stopped by to check on you," he said nonchalantly, plucking some strings on my guitar. I felt my face fall dramatically.

"Do you do that often?" My stomach fluttered.

He nodded.

"So you stop by when I'm sleeping?" I couldn't believe I was missing out on all of these midnight visits!

He shrugged, "I usually just check through your window, but when I saw that you were still awake I thought I'd come to coax you back to sleep."

I grinned and squeezed his hand.

"Well in that case why don't you help me with a history paper?"

He grimaced.

"Claire, you have to get to bed, all joking aside," the authoritarian in him said sternly.

"I know but this is due tomorrow!"

"How far have you gotten?" He spun in the chair and frowned, "oh."

"See?"

"When were you assigned it?" He wondered, setting the guitar down. I managed a nervous smile.

"Two weeks ago," I mentally slapped my own hand. This truth was not about to set me free, so I could definitely forget that montage.

He narrowed his eyebrows and then sighed.

"Have I been distracting you too much lately?" He inquired, sinking back into the chair.

"No," I said hurriedly, "I just procrastinate," I lifted my shoulders, "bad habit."

He sighed again and told me to go to bed.

"But what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to save you from a heap of trouble," he said, pulling the computer into his lap. I smiled thankfully and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, Quil."

"Go to sleep, Claire."

"Will you wake me up when you leave?"

"No, I'll pick you up for school."

I moped but resigned to my covers, not really sure how I was supposed to sleep knowing he was so close.

* * *

The morning chirped brightly outside of the window, the sunshine smiling through the curtains. I stretched and plodded over to my computer, the three page paper on revolutionary conflict lay on the keyboard. A sticky note was on the front page.

_You owe me._

There was a smiley face at the bottom. I grinned and folded the note up in my hand, stuffing it into my jeans pocket as I got dressed. I grabbed a granola bar on the way out and sat down on the porch steps, waiting for him.

The morning was garden-fresh, its air crisp and full of pollen. I munched on the grains of the bar and twiddled the toes of my sandals around one another. My heart thawed as I heard wheels crunch over the gravel of the street.

"You're pretty much done with school." His smile cracked his face in half, each tooth glittering in the early lights.

"Seven hours and counting until summer," I hummed in excitement and relief. His fingers tapped on the dashboard like the ticks of a clock.

"Do you want me to pick you up for the appointment later or is Chance taking you?"

I was finally getting the brace off my ankle and couldn't wait to get rid of my limp.

"I'd be happy if you did it," I admitted, lightly palming the back of his hand. "Thanks, Quil."

"Not a problem, C," he promised, reaching over me and unlatching the door as we came to a stop at the curb. He planted a light and unexpected kiss on my lips and sent my heart running out onto the cement. "Have a good day." I could feel the print of his lips against mine burning fondly as I swaggered to class.

* * *

"Ouch!" I cried out as the physical therapist wrenched my ankle down. Quil tautened next to me, my knuckles going white over his. The pop of the scar tissue had been enough to turn my stomach.

"There." He patted the sole of my foot, rotating it in a full circle. "You're free to do as much as feels comfortable, Claire." He rubbed the bones between his palms. "Don't be too rough on it."

I nodded and winced as I slid off of the table. My ankle immediately jumped from the weight I attempted to put on it and the therapist gave me a skeptical look.

"Should we put that brace back on for a while?" He asked. I forced a smile through the pain shooting up my calf and waved it off.

"Course not," I swore. I turned from him and bit down on the side of my cheek as I did my best to walk sturdily out of his sight. Quil was right behind me of course. Once we were out of view he scooped me up and gave me a disapproving glare.

"Claire, if it hurts we should go back."

"That thing is never going back on my foot."

"Being stubborn is not going to make your ankle feel any better," he warned.

"Agree to disagree." I crossed my arms and laid my head against the chest of stone.

"We're having a barbecue tonight, C, will you come?"

"I guess," I moped, slouching further into the passenger seat. He tucked the laugh into the back of his throat and kept his hands on the wheel.

We meandered through his front door to an empty house apart from Paul. But that sole occupant worried me enough. His eyes were spacious and set on the floor, his hands folded and rested on his knees.

"Paul?" I called. No response. Quil threw the keys loudly onto the counter and came behind him shaking his shoulders obnoxiously.

"Let's go, Buddy!" He said, ruffling the shoulders of the shirt. "Liven up!"

Paul stayed completely immovable and I spun around as a cacophony of noise rumbled from the back door. Embry and Seth had two large buckets of hose water and were balancing them dangerously between their forearms. Quil backed up, a goofy grin in place.

"Paul, we are going to pour these two freezing buckets of water over your head if you do not say something!" Seth promised, holding the bucket precariously over his head.

"How long has he been like this?!" Quil asked, laughing as the perched water dripped slowly down onto Paul's black hair.

"A good hour," Embry mused, scratching his head.

"Alright," Seth cautioned again, "Paul, its coming." He faked the tip, attempting to shove Paul from his absent-mindedness.

"Okay, this has been enough," Quil concluded, grabbing the bottom edge of the water pail and emptying it over Paul. The previously unresponsive male leapt from the couch, banging his head on the bucket and cursing loudly at his friends.

He scowled from beneath his soaking hair and glowered at the three of them, who were bent over in stitches of humor.

"Paul, what has been with you?" I said, restraining laughs of my own. He looked over to me and sighed loudly, sinking back into the now dripping wet upholstery.

"Long story."

"We're ready to hear it," I answered, hopping over to a dry chair. The boys sucked in their laughter enough to listen, leaning over the back of the couch.

"I…" His eyebrows formed a 'v'. "I-well I was-I ya know…"

"Spit it out!" Seth yelled, punching him in the shoulder.

"I imprinted!" He declared loudly, his eyes going wide again even as the words left his mouth. The entire room froze. Even the air seemed to go stale. The three men behind Paul became statues with their eyes all locked upon each other.

"Congratulations?" My statement sliced through the atmosphere. Quil budged, glancing up to me with a spark in his eye. He smiled small at me. My heart whispered against my ribs. Paul's hands ran shakily through his hair.

"Yeah, man," Quil acclaimed, "congratulations."

"Does Sam know?" Seth asked. Paul shook his head no.

"Who is it?" The three men asked in unison.

* * *

"Reagan Planke?" I gaped at the loping beauty as she carried her younger brother through the front yard of her house, which was around the corner from mine and where Paul had spotted her. "Really?" She had been one of Chance's best friends ever since I could remember. They'd always made an envious pair.

Paul's eyes followed her movements like it was science, his lips parted and his posture comfortable. He nodded, smiling as Reagan pushed her brother onto their tire swing.

"So when are you gonna tell Sam?" Seth asked from the kitchen, pulling a rainbow of condiments from the fridge.

"Tell me what?" My uncle strolled through the door and grumbled hellos. Expectedly everyone went silent, waiting for Paul to talk.

"I've had an interesting day." He shifted uncomfortably in the couch's still damp cushions.

"How interesting?" Sam inquired.

"I imprinted." His words came quickly. My uncle's head lowered to the ground and he let out a long breath.

"Let's take a walk."

* * *

My plate was balanced between my knees, the grass beneath me was dry but soft, and Quil's eyes danced in the moonlight. The balls of light twinkled down at me and I wondered how many bow and arrows would need to pierce the night sky to make such fixating wounds in its skin. I glanced over to him and murmured something that had been bothering me ever since I had seen Paul's reaction to his imprint.

"Were you scared?"

"When?" He asked.

"When you imprinted."

He paused.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you were only two years old."

"So?"

"That had never happened before."

I smiled and crawled over to his position on the lawn. He curled his warm arms around me and breathed hotly into my scalp.

"Were you mad?" I continued.

He didn't answer.

"Were you?" I pressed.

"Kind of." He pulled me closer to his chest, wrapping his love around my body in a way that made it possible for me to never leave this spot. "It was horrible to have people think you were crazy for something that you knew was right. They just didn't understand the kind of love I had for you then, they assumed it was the kind of love I have for you now."

My heart jiggled in my chest, my belly doing a tango of its own. He lay down into the grass and I stretched out on top of him, my back flush with his chest.

"Was it hard?" I kept going.

"Yes." He ran a finger down the side of my neck, giving me the chills. He placed his lips against the rim of my ear to whisper. "But more than worth it." My body shuddered against his.

"Quil," oh God, I couldn't ask this, "do—have you…I mean—"

_You're being ridiculous,_ the realist said rudely; _just say it for goodness' sake._

"Have you ever thought about us?" Okay, that was a start but definitely not the question I was aiming for.

He actually laughed. "Claire, naturally I have thought about you and I, I think it would be weird if I hadn't." His chest rumbled beneath mine.

"Yeah…but have you ever thought about _us_?" I stressed the pronoun. He stayed completely silent and lost. I attempted to clarify as the blush rushed up into my face, "about _us _doing _it_?"

I mentally cringed at my own words. I hadn't just said that. I couldn't have. I hated having such fiercely headstrong impulses. I felt him reposition rigidly beneath me and knew that he had understood the question. My cheeks were ripe with embarrassment.

"Tell the truth," I asked, flipping over so that our bellies were pressing against each other's.

He refused to make eye contact with me. After a few achingly long moments he sighed.

"Of course I have, Claire." My breath caught and I felt my chest burn. The butterflies in my stomach flew up into my throat.

"A-and?" I stuttered due to the nerves that continued to tingle all over my body.

"And we're not discussing this right now."

Although I frowned I was far too embarrassed to actually argue this fresh subject yet.

I let my inhale trickle out slowly, allowing my mind to push all of the scandalous desires out. I folded my hands on his sternum and rested my chin on them, staring deeply into his face. He propped up on his elbows and looked directly into me.

"I can see Lupus reflected in your eyes." He pointed to the left side of my face.

"And what is Lupus?" I said incredulously.

"A constellation."

"Stars?"

He nodded.

"And which shape are they?" I craned my neck towards the stars above.

"The wolf."

* * *

_Author's note- Leave your thoughts or questions or opinions or whatever. Thanks for reading guys it really means a lot!!  
_


	17. Chapter 17

_Author's note- I had to remember that Quil was an older brother for twelve years before he was the boyfriend. Not all of that relationship has disappeared and i'm sure the transition has been difficult for them both. Hopefully this portrays my idea of it well enough._

_Disclaimer. _

* * *

A month into summer and I had yet to go swimming.

"Why won't you take me?" I whined as Quil and I watched an episode of a sitcom from my couch.

"Take you where, Claire?" He asked, exasperated. He loved to pretend that he didn't know exactly what I was talking about.

"To swim!"

"I told you I would." He flipped to a different channel as cats began singing a jingle for kitty litter.

"But you haven't."

"Why are you being so difficult today?" He asked, pulling the fan that had been turned on high close to his face. His hair wafted in the fast air. I would have been sarcastic right back but his statement had seemed more rhetorical than anything else.

"You are so overprotective," I brooded, huffing and turning back to the television.

"Overprotective?" He said loudly. I flipped towards him and crossed my arms.

"Yes, Quil." His face got redder with each word. "Overprotective," I reiterated.

"How do you expect me to be, Claire?"

I grumbled wordlessly beneath my breath and rolled my eyes. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Gosh, Quil, I don't know! Normal perhaps?"

Uh-oh.

He stood from the couch and switched the television off.

"Normal?" He half asked, half yelled. He pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "You knew what you were getting into with me! You were the one who wanted to know everything!" His voice was harsh and unforgiving. "You want normal, Claire? Go find Casey!"

"That's not fair!" I retorted, standing as well. He turned away from me and his exposed back muscles swelled as his body tensed.

"Look, Claire I'm not normal," he began to talk more quietly, "and I wish more than anything that I was." He placed an elbow against the wall and leaned onto it. "I didn't choose to be this…thing, C. I didn't choose to take on the weight of this stupid myth, okay?" His voice began to climb in volume. "I didn't choose to phase, I didn't choose to fight, I didn't choose to kill, I didn't choose to imprint."

I felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart and stomach all at once. My hands shook as I cradled my flaming cheeks, sucking back tears. Quil spun on his heel and immediately apologized.

"Oh, Claire I didn't mean it like that." He bent down and put a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off and stumbled backwards, my head pounding with heat.

"Like what!" I yelled. "Did you mean it like you wouldn't have chosen _me_, Quil?" He flinched. "Go ahead! Admit it!" My breath heaved in and out painfully. "Go on, I know I'm not worth it." He stood and began walking towards me but I matched each of his steps with a step of mine towards the door. "Never mind," I spat, "you've said enough already."

I shoved the door open and stalked into the light rain, heading straight down the narrow road. I didn't look back, knowing that his face would have been enough to crush me even more.

"Don't follow me, Quil!" I demanded as I began to run, knowing what his plan of rescue would be. But this time I didn't know if I wanted to be rescued. I wanted my time. I wanted a chance.

_I didn't choose to imprint._

That translated more in my mind like, _I didn't choose you._

My feet caught beneath me as the pain broke newly over my chest like a wave. I felt the rocks dig into my knees but I just got back up, heading towards the one place I knew I could escape to.

"Claire?" Cam said softly as I threw open the door to her house. I flew up the stairs to her room and flopped onto her bed, sobbing into the pillows under me. Her footsteps clattered up the staircase after mine. I felt gentle fingers begin to run up and down my back as she shushed me understandingly.

"It's alright, Claire." Her voice was hushed. "Whatever it is," she vowed, "I'll help you fix it."

* * *

Her crestfallen eyes had burned through me, leaving my heart to knot incessantly with the pain. How could she ever think that she hadn't been _worth it?_ That idea didn't even sound plausible in my mind. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be safe. I wanted to be everything for her, anything for her.

I slammed the front door as her last words rang loudly through my head.

_Don't follow me._

My heart recoiled completely, leaving me with a gaping chasm where it should have been. My heart was so full of Claire that anytime that she even shrugged at something it flinched along with her. But now there was a bleeding hole where it should have been, acrid remorse pulsing in its place.

I didn't acknowledge anything other than the ground beneath my feet as I hiked to the cliff that Jake, Embry, and I used to jump off of as kids. I settled onto the limestone face and swung my legs over the edge, balancing my heavy head in my palms.

All she had wanted was to go swimming. But where was there to swim besides the ocean?

I hadn't wanted to tell her that the latest vampire had escaped by sea. I'd always heard about how great of swimmers they were…but to see it was terrifying. I neglected sharing that with her; she had enough things to fill up her nightmares already.

I couldn't let her out there. Regardless of if I had been with her or not. Nearly the entire pack had been at the campsite when she had been sent to the hospital. A growl burned the back of my throat as I thought back to that night. If we all couldn't have kept that terror from happening; what would I have done in the ocean? It was like throwing her to the sharks. But these ones emptied all of the blood of their victims and left them cold.

Never. I would never endanger Claire like that. I had been built for her, built to protect her. What kind of protection would that be?

Normal. I wished more than anything that I could be that. I wanted to be the one and only in Claire's life. I yearned to take her completely as my own. I dreamed of stealing her away to places where her beauty could be mine and mine alone. I hungered to slather her in all of the love that my heart practically screamed whenever I even thought of her. I craved to make her mine, spiritually, matrimonially, _physically_.

The rain's bulging drops pelted my broad shoulders for the next couple of hours; the sun kissing the horizon as evening approached quickly. My cell phone buzzed against my thigh. I pulled it out and grunted into the receiver.

"Quil?" It was a familiar girl's voice.

"Yes?"

"It's Cam." I placed the name to the face of Claire's best friend immediately. "Claire's here at my house in case you were worried," she said. I felt like crying of relief.

"Is she okay?" My voice shook.

"Yeah, she was pretty upset when she got here but she's sleeping now."

"Did she say anything?" I wondered aloud, not really knowing if I wanted to know the answer.

"Not really," she lamented, "but she's been mumbling your name in her sleep for the last twenty minutes."

My heart soared.

"Should I come get her?" It was weird to ask. I always felt like I knew what was best for Claire. But, not for the first time ever, I was seriously beginning to doubt my ideas on that.

"I think she'd appreciate it," Cam murmured. I quickly snapped the phone shut and jumped from my position. Cam's house seemed closer than ever.

She cracked open the front door at the sound of my knock and smiled, inviting me in. She pointed up the stairs towards a door that was slightly ajar. I nodded thankfully and clambered up the stairs, my nose pulling in the scent that made the heat in my body bloom beneath my muscles. I stepped quietly into the girl's room and felt my chest lighten at the sight. Claire was wound into about four blankets, her precious face resting on an overstuffed pillow.

I sat in front of her and studied the face that I knew like the back of my hand. Her auburn eyebrows angled perfectly over her closed eyes, the thick lashes bustling against her high cheekbones. Her bangs ruffled as her breath flew through them, her shapely lips blowing warm exhales into the air.

I could practically taste the heat that she radiated. I couldn't help but allow my heart to quiet at the sight of her.

Her eyes began to flutter and I immediately thought of leaving, I didn't want to make her upset by being here. She slowly opened her eyes, showing only a small fraction of each. Her eyes flew open as she registered the fact that I was in front of her. I opened my mouth to say something but the words danced away from my throat, playing tag through my belly. She just flipped over, making it so her face wasn't towards me. My chest ached.

"Claire?" I said calmly. She chose not to say anything. I hesitantly approached the bed, my lips pursed. As I got close enough I reached over and brushed her hair back so that I could see her face. To magnify my pain even further she flinched as my skin came into contact with hers. I retracted my hand and just settled down on the floor. "Claire, you know I didn't mean what I said."

"Oh?" She hummed skeptically.

"I didn't mean it the way it sounded, C," I assured her. "If anything I am thankful for what I am."

She spun slowly in the blankets which were tangled through her legs.

"Thankful?" She questioned.

"I wouldn't be able to be with you if I aged normally, Claire," I murmured. She nodded, her feathery lashes shifting downwards.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. My heart jumped.

"Sorry?" I exclaimed, "Claire, there is no reason for you to be sorry."

"I'm sorry you imprinted on me, Quil."

My heart shattered into dozens of pieces and stung the back of my ribcage in the process. The heat flushed to my eyes, begging them to water from frustration and sadness in the same moment.

"It's the best thing that has ever happened to me, Claire," I reassured her, taking her small hand in mine, where it fit perfectly. Her moist eyes met mine and she stared at me for a while, "I love you, Claire." 

Those words didn't seem wide enough to fit all that I felt, but it was the only word I had, "whether you like it or not," I added, bemused.

She nearly smiled.

I took a deep, deep breath and spoke again, "wanna go take a swim?"

Her mouth formed a shy smile and she nodded. We left Cam's house quietly and walked the warm path to the beach. The waves rolled in towards the beach, lapping at the lip of the earth. I was just going to swim in my jeans but I realized that Claire didn't have anything to swim in.

"Do you want me to run home and grab your suit?" I asked as I looked back to her. Her shirt was already off. I felt the heat erupt in my core, that tight coil that attuned me to all the parts of my body and hers. I could hear Sam's subdued growls in my head. I should have just left and gone to get her suit…but a bathing suit wouldn't cover much else anyways, right?

Her bra was black, clinging tightly to her taut curves. My blood pounded through my body, most strongly in one spot. Her eyes met mine and she grinned deviously, like she was doing this on purpose. Torture for my earlier words.

She began to unlatch her jean shorts and I should have told her to stop…but I couldn't. Her long, toned legs slipped out from the denim that she threw on top of the shirt. Her underwear was a soft pink color that highlighted the russet glow of her skin. I wanted nothing more in the world than to hold her close to me…to touch her. My skin nearly crawled off of me in pursuit of her. The commands grew in volume, ringing in my ears. But my eyes wouldn't budge; they combed over the pieces of skin that I had longed to wrap myself around for what seemed like forever.

She seemed frozen as well, but a purposeful sort of frozen. She smiled shyly and walked towards me. My heart banged on my chest. She grabbed my hand and led me towards the waves.

* * *

The sand slipped between my toes as I dove into the sea. The salt water stung my skin but the feeling was lost as a hot body grabbed me towards it. The fact that I was practically naked amplified every touch of his. It had felt less than awkward undressing in front of him; I shouldn't have done it…and I knew that. But I just couldn't help it. I wanted this. I wanted him. I wanted him to have me.

His fingers traced gingerly over my bare thighs that he twined around his waist. His balmy skin tingled against the insides of my legs, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as I pressed closer to him. His lips attacked mine with the sort of fever that I had always wanted from him. My stomach urged against his, my skin burning. The cold water around us filtered through the miniscule separations between our bodies.

My heart rate flew as his hands pressed against my back. His lips moved achingly, longingly, strategically. I slipped my tongue into his soft mouth and felt him gasp beneath my legs. My hips swung into his concrete stomach, my back arching as my chest pressed into the top of his. Hot hands came underneath my butt and hiked me up so that more and more of our skin was in contact. I heard him groan deeply as 

my hands danced up the front of his chest, my nails scraping gently against the fevered skin. My heart clanged at the sound, practically skipping a beat.

His tongue caressed slowly down to my neck, tensing over a sensitive area that had made me whimper. His tongue traveled in calculated circles over the nerve ridden skin, making my body shudder against his. I whispered his name and felt him bow beneath me, taking my mouth back in his.

My arms shook as I wound them around his shoulders, sealing up any space that had been between us. He fluttered delicate kisses all over my face as he struggled to get back to shore, keeping me attached to him. We were both battling to breathe normally as his feet fell onto solid ground. To my surprise he didn't set me down, our shapes melted together, each dripping with passion. He sighed in my neck and nuzzled into my shoulder, clinging to me.

He scooped up my clothes and spoke into my ear.

"Where does your mom think you are?"

"Cam's." My voice trembled.

"Where do you want to be?"

"With you," I confided honestly. He wound his arms more tightly around me and began to jog towards his house. My heart was drumming, my body stuck to his. Was this really it?

He smoothly opened the front door and carried me to the last door in the hall. The smell of him puffed into the air as the door flung outwards, I nearly went woozy with the innate cologne. He collapsed onto his bed, careful to keep me on top.

We both gasped for oxygen, our chests swelling and falling in unison. He climbed up and wrenched a shirt and pair of boxers from a drawer.

"Do you want dry clothes?" He offered, holding the pieces out to me. I nodded as he pointed to the bathroom. I peeled off my wet undergarments with wobbly fingers, uncoordinatedly stepping into Quil's boxers. When I ambled back into the room he was in a dry pair of sweat pants.

He grinned at me, "c'mere," he mumbled. He bound me into his chest and cuddled into his bed, throwing a thin sheet over us.

My heart was beating so loudly that I was sure he would be able to hear it. What was supposed to happen now? What did he want to happen now? What did I want to happen?

"Good night, Claire," he hummed into my ear, kissing my neck gently. My racing heart began to soothe itself back into regularity. Sleep.

"Night, Quil," I replied. The sand man didn't come quickly that night for me although he did for Quil. His soft snores came after only about fifteen minutes. But I just lay there, reveling in the heat that swam off of him. I'm sure after a few hours I fell asleep, but who's to know since my dreams were full of the exact same things.

* * *

_Author's note- Thanks for reading!! I hope it was good enough!! Leave thoughts mis amigos!!  
_


	18. Chapter 18

_Author's note- I want a Quil! Ugh. If only werewolves were real._

_Disclaimer._

* * *

"STOP!" He yelled beside me, his arms braced against the dashboard. "Brake! Brake, Claire! BRAKE!"

The car spun a donut in the gravel in my driveway, my seatbelt tugging tightly against my hips. Quil was heaving breaths in and out of his chest.

"Sorry," I said, shrugging unassumingly. His eyes went wide with disbelief.

"You almost killed yourself!"

"And you," I added, hardly shaken. He grunted and took my shoulders.

"I will drive you anywhere you need to go for the rest of my life," he swore. I tilted my head back as laughs bubbled up my throat. "No joke," he affirmed, collapsing back into the passenger seat.

"Way to have faith in improvement, Quil," I teased, I hadn't thought that I'd done that bad anyways.

"It doesn't matter how much you improve," he insisted, opening my door and snatching the keys, "your driving is deadly."

"Wow," I complained, "rude."

"True."

"But rude."

"I'm here to keep you safe, Claire," he said as we waltzed into the kitchen, "and your driving is anything but that."

"Maybe I just need practice," I suggested. He shook his head with his face in a very determined expression. "Maybe you just need some food?" I tried again.

He laughed and nodded as I pulled some noodles and pesto out from the cupboard. He put a pan on as I grabbed some sea salt. The home phone droned in its cradle.

"Hello?" I answered. Someone was breathing heavily on the other end.

"Hello?" I asked again.

"Claire?" A girl's voice was hysterical in my ear.

"Yeah?"

"It's Reagan," her voice trilled with the sound of tears and sniffs.

"What's wrong, Reagan?" I said as Quil poured the noodles into the water. "You can't do that until it boils!" I scolded him. He shrugged and left it in anyways.

"Who are you with?" She demanded. "Is Chance there?"

"No, she's on a run," I replied. "Reag, is everything okay?"

"Can I come over?" She asked.

"Sure." The other side of the line cut to the dial tone. Quil gave me a puzzled eyebrow raise as he lifted himself onto the counter.

"Who was that?" He asked.

"Reagan."

"Paul's girl?" Reagan and Paul had been dating for the past month and a half or so, she seemed to like him well enough. And he was obviously infatuated.

"Yeah, that one." I stirred the noodles as they floated pathetically in the barely bubbling water. "She's supposed to be head—"

My statement was cut short by a knock on the door.

"I'll get it." Quil hopped from the counter and opened the door to a dreary Reagan. She stepped back a little bit at the sight of him. "You can come in if you want," he said carefully.

She stepped around him and scuffled into the kitchen. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying. I abandoned the noodles and gave her a tight hug.

"Hi." I motioned for her to sit down. "What's up?" I said concernedly. Reagan lifted a shaky hand and ran it through her hair, sighing loudly.

"Paul." She stopped there. Quil and I made wary eye contact. Paul? Had he broken up with her or something? It seemed impossible.

"Paul…what?" I asked, not daring to guess at the finale of the sentence.

"He—he…kept ranting about some stupid legend from here," she hiccupped through tears. Reagan wasn't from here, her mom had remarried a man who lived on the rez when she was young and moved here with Reagan. Reagan's little brother was much younger than her and a product of the second marriage. As a result, Reagan had a large tangle of light brown curly hair, circular blue eyes, and no knowledge of the myths that revolved around our history.

"Legend?" Quil gave me a fearful look as I stuttered through the word. She nodded slowly, her eyes wide and shocked. I sat down next to her and grabbed her hand. "What all did he say?"

* * *

"It can't be," she remained solid in her claim.

"It is." Quil shifted as he regarded her disbelief, placing a long arm around my shoulder. Reagan looked at me for some common sense.

"It's true," I sighed, unconsciously sinking into Quil's shoulder, "I've seen it." Her wild eyes flew from me to Quil, begging for us to start laughing and tell her it was all a prank.

"But— he just…seemed so normal," she spoke softly, folding her arms down onto the counter and laying her head in them, "so perfect." I slowly made my way towards her, placing my hand against her shoulder blade.

"Reagan, it is anything but a bad thing." I turned and winked at Quil. "I promise."

"Claire!" She said forcefully. "They're claiming to be mythical creatures with infinite strength and excited irritability. They could hurt you with a friendly shove! Forget getting into arguments with them!" Her eyes welled with freshly sown tears. I couldn't ever remember seeing her quite as upset as she was then.

Just then Chance jogged through the front door, two white ipod tentacles hanging from her ears.

"Claire, you missed a really good—" She sped into the kitchen, wiping Reagan's bangs back. "Reag, what's wrong?" Her friend huffed from the chair and excused herself to the bathroom. "Did something happen with Paul?" She looked to us.

I didn't dare answer.

"He told her," Quil interjected.

Chance's eyes flew open.

"Told her…the thing?" She inquired hesitantly. Quil nodded. I felt my interest pique since I had never really heard Chance or mom talk about the fact that they had known all along.

"Why is she so scared of Paul hurting her?" I couldn't keep the question from spitting from my lips. My sister's eyes roamed to the slammed bathroom door.

"She had a bad boyfriend for a long time before Paul." Chance adjusted her weight and sunk into her curvy hip. "He was awful to her." I could see the pain in her own eyes as she looked down to the ground.

"Paul would never do that, especially not to her," Quil said defensively. But as I thought back to all of my own memories of Paul, he had always been the one that had a temper. Chance murmured something about doing some repair work and set off down the hall towards the bathroom.

"Were you telling the truth?" I asked, a huge and unsettled question hanging on my heart.

"About Paul?" I nodded. Quil hissed out a long breath, "He would never lose control on purpose."

"But it could happen?" I pressed. Quil shrugged and clenched his teeth.

"It's possible."

"Would you ever lose control?" I continued, my voice starting to quake. Quil's eyes shot to mine, a webbed fury and hurt welding together in the centers.

"Claire I would nev—" he started, but just then a terrible image erupted in my head. A beautifully familiar face peeked at me through my mind's eyes, all of her imperfections suddenly highlighted.

"How did Emily get the scars on her face?" I asked. Quil went noticeably rigid, his hands balling at his sides. "It wasn't a bear…" I allowed my words to trail to where my mind had led.

"It was a wolf," he muttered gruffly. I blinked back the shock and tried to ignore the way my heart was knocking loudly on my ribcage.

"It was when he was still really young, and he had no idea about everything that was happening and—"

I didn't allow him to continue.

"It was Sam wasn't it," I whispered, the words more of a statement than a question. Quil let his chin drop into his chest, closing his eyes and rocking back against the edge of the counter.

"Yeah, it was."

I felt my cheeks go hot. They could be just as dangerous as the thing that had left scars down my arms and against the right side of my chest.

"Claire?" Quil mumbled softly. I looked up into wounded eyes. "Are you scared of me?" The question practically stung my heart. Sure, the Sam thing had caught me by surprise, but there wasn't anything in this world that could have made me scared of Quil. And there certainly wasn't anything that could make me care about him any less.

"No, Quil, I'm not," I answered, watching as his vulnerable expression lifted a little bit. But then his brow furrowed.

"Maybe you should be," he whispered painfully. I couldn't help as my breath caught in my chest. Did he want me to be scared?

"Why would you say that?" I provoked.

"Claire, what if I ever lost control and ended up hurting you? I wouldn't be able to live with myself." He placed his hands over his face as if the very thought could bring him to the ground.

"Quil, you would never do that," I comforted, not entirely sure myself.

"How do you know?" He said, his voice cracking. He sunk down onto the floor. I crawled over to him and put my chin on his knees.

"I don't," I replied honestly, wrapping my arms around his calves. His fingers were woven in his silky black hair, his shoulders slumped and hopeless. "But I have faith in you." I pressed my lips against his knee and pulled one of his hands into mine.

"Why?" He inquired, tensing his large hand around mine.

"Because that's what love is," I explained, adjusting into his lap, "entrusting your heart to another person and hoping that they don't break it."

* * *

I stared at Claire as Saylor jumped onto her back. Harry somersaulted down the grass hill in Sam's backyard after Bailey. Claire's graceful strides had her down the hill in a few seconds. She tumbled purposefully onto the ground and began tickling her cousins. I couldn't help but imagine what a wonderful mother she would be.

I could practically envision the perfectly round belly of a pregnant Claire, her skin glowing from the child in her, from _my_ child in her.

"You're quiet today," Jacob said as he sat down next to me on the lawn, handing me a coke.

"Just thinking," I answered, taking a swig from the bottle. Jacob followed my eye line down to the group at the bottom of the hill.

"She's great, Quil," he mentioned, resting his arms over his folded legs. I let my eyes fall the ground.

"She asked about Emily's scars today," I admitted, ripping some green shoots from the ground. Jacob's concerned expression met mine.

"You mean she…"

"Yeah, she figured it out." I adjusted uncomfortably as the memory came back, fresher than when it had happened.

"What did she say?"

"She was surprised," I said, still working through her multitude of expressions in my head.

"Scared?" Jacob wondered aloud.

"She should have been," I revealed irritably, "but she said she trusted me to never put her in that kind of danger." Jacob lifted the bottle to his lips again and smiled, leaving one last remark as he headed back inside.

"Smart girl."

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_Author's note- Thanks for reading the chapter guys!! Let me know how I did. Hm...let's see i have a certain number in mind and once the reviews reach it the next chapter will go up...gosh you guys better type fast lol.  
_


	19. Chapter 19

_Author's note- I couldn't help but sneak some Jake in here. He's my favorite of Meyer's characters. Enjoy :) Thanks so much for all of the reviews guys!! They mean so so much!! EVOL to everyone who took the time to write one!! _

_Disclaimer._

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"I haven't been to the cliffs for so long!" I stuck my head out the open window and smiled as the wind whipped through my hair.

"Me either," Quil expressed, winding up the path to the top of the face. We stopped a little ways from the point and adjusted out of the vehicle, sweeping branches and moss out of our way.

"Where are Embry and Jake?" I wondered idly as we meandered towards the break in the trees.

"They're already up there," Quil said as he parted some branches for me.

"You know I'm scared of heights, right?" I asked, chuckling as he gave me a skeptical glare.

"Claire," he feigned a wounded tone, "I'm hurt that you would doubt my knowledge of your fears."

"Just a reminder." I stumbled through the undergrowth, clawing past the thorny branches.

The breath caught in my chest as we ambled onto the cliff, the height of the precipice exciting fresh pounds from my heart. Quil laughed at my wary expression and wrapped me into his chest. He walked slowly to the edge, my eyes bulging with each step. He reached the drop off and stared over.

"Quil, quit it," I mumbled into his bare chest, my heart thundering away.

"You don't really think I would ever let you fall, do you?" He said, curling his arms tighter around me.

"No, but I think you'd jump with me," I rationalized, squeezing my eyes shut even though I couldn't see any part of the drop as it was.

"Never if you didn't want to," he comforted, kissing my head as he turned back towards the forest, setting me down onto the ground. I staggered back to the tree line and sat onto the ground, tucking my feet beneath my body. A yelling Embry tumbled out from the trees to my right with a chuckling Jake behind him.

"That wasn't fair," Embry complained, rubbing dirt and forest debris from his hair.

"You were the one who wanted to race," Jake said, shrugging.

"We agreed that physical contact was cheating!" Embry responded, his hair in disarray.

"It wasn't my fault that you tripped and rolled beneath my feet!" Jake returned not bothering to hold in his laughter. "I didn't even know werewolves could cartwheel like that, it was actually kind of cool."

"Your guys' arguing could send me off a cliff," Quil carped, smiling as Embry rolled his eyes, "pun intended." And with that he wrestled an arm around Embry's shoulders and threw them both over the side, leaving Jacob to shake his head and flop down next to me.

"You aren't going to cliff dive?" I asked, opening up the book that I had brought to read.

"Naw," he murmured, tossing his hair around and laying onto the ground. "Are you going to?" He wondered, popping an eye open.

"I'm scared of heights," I explained, flipping through the first chapter. Jake nodded understandingly and closed his eyes again. "You too?"

"Am I scared of heights?" He replied.

"Yeah," I clarified, resting on my elbow to face him.

"No."

"Then why aren't you going to jump?"

Jacob sucked in air until his chest was completely full and then let it hiss through his lips slowly.

"I don't like this cliff," he attempted to placate my curiosity, failing miserably.

"Why not?"

Jacob sighed and pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose, readjusting to an upright position. His eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight that hung over the Cliffside, a rare treat. The wind stirred minimally, the spray of the sea spinning into the air. He just stared. He stared and stared. I didn't think I should interrupt, so I didn't.

"There was this girl," he began, his voice sounding injured as he spoke, "the one and only person who could trick a laugh out of me no matter what," he smiled at the memory.

"Was she your girlfriend?" I wondered, grinning at him. His expression's spark vanished immediately.

"No." He let out a strangled sigh. "She was my best friend." The depth in his eyes immediately shallowed, the intensity and joy snuffed out.

"Jake…you don't have to tell me if—"

"You deserve to know why I'm like this," he relented. I pressed my lips together and reached out towards his hand, squeezing his huge palm in mine as my eyes pledged sympathy. "Her name was Bella." The name sounded like a song as he breathed it from his lips, reverie folded into those short, flowing syllables. "She lived in Forks, the daughter of my father's best friend," he continued, "but she was always just a friend."

I nodded as he paused, putting away the story in my lap for the one that sat in front of me.

"You know about the…_things_…we chase, Claire?" He asked. I told him that I did. "They're horrible, murderous predators. But some are different. There was this family that lived just outside of Forks, the Cullens, and they had chosen a long time ago not to consume human blood."

I winced at the reference. "What did they…_eat_ then?" The verb in that sort of context nearly brought me to a shudder.

"They drank the blood of animals." He extended his mile long legs out in front of him and leaned back onto the heels of his hands. "Anyways, Bella was in love with one of them."

My tongue itched with a weird question, "they were able to associate with humans regardless of their bloodlust?" Jacob's expression twitched uncomfortably.

"They claimed to have control around them although it was still incredibly risky. Especially when you think about the close…parameters of a_ romantic _relationship," he seemed to choke over the word. "One winter, a long time ago, he left Bella."

"Left?"

Jacob nodded, "his entire family just picked up and moved, leaving her here, alone."

"But she wasn't alone," I began to fill in the coming blanks, "she had you." He smiled small and allowed his chin to fall into his clavicle.

"That's when we became closest. We did everything together that winter: homework, movies, working in the garage…"

A majestic sense of nostalgia settled over his features as he let himself get lost in the memories, I could practically see the figures dancing behind his eyes.

"I could tell she was hurting," his voice plunged in volume, "she looked like hell when I first saw her after he'd…gone." He allowed his hair to fall in front of his eyes. "He tore her apart when he left," he confided, "but I didn't care. I did my best to pick up those pieces so carefully and stick them back together."

It hurt my heart to see Jake like this, but I couldn't pull my eyes away. I could see that his eyes had run dry of tears on this subject and that there was an amount of purposeful detachment in his voice. But still the pain writhed beneath his words, making his cheeks flush.

"One day she asked me to take her cliff diving." He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as he gazed out at the ledge. "I promised her that I would take her one day over spring break, but the day that we were supposed to do it we caught a fresh trail."

"A trail from one of the vampires?" I asked quietly. He nodded slowly.

"A dangerous one that had been stalking Bella for a long time. We were…I was desperate to destroy her. So when the chance opened up we jumped at it."

My skin trembled as I remembered my run in with the female vampire that had left me in scars. I could relate to the danger of the creatures that the wolves pursued.

"I went back to check on her and followed her scent trail to the road that runs closest to the tress leading to this cliff. And then it clicked. I remembered the promise I had made the day before at the same time I heard her scream." He gazed unseeingly at the ground, tangled up in his memories. "I dove off of the cliff and fought in the current, knowing immediately that she wouldn't have been strong enough to swim in it." His words were smothered with pain as he continued. "I phased back and wrenched her back to the shore, pounding all of the water out of her lungs that I could. It seemed like she had swallowed the whole ocean," he marveled, his eyes glistening with ghosts again. "Sam let me take her home and I fell asleep next to her, comforted by her secured safety, lying there in my arms."

I twiddled my fingers together, trying to imagine that kind of panic. My heart couldn't even think of pounding fast enough to portray the emotion. I blinked up at his face as he took a severely deep breath.

"She left here a long time ago," he murmured. "She chose the leech over me." He laughed dryly, tensely. His eyes were excruciatingly pained. "Hopefully _he _keeps her safe…loved…alive." His voice skipped over the last word, breaking over the pain. He lifted himself up from the ground surprisingly gracefully for a man of his size and let his hair fall over his eyes.

"Sorry, Claire," he breathed, "I'm going to go take a run." And then he was gone.

I heard rustling behind me and was suddenly encompassed by two huge, hot, and soaking wet arms.

"Quil!" I squealed, worming around in his tight grasp.

"Claire!" He mockingly squealed in return, pausing to look around the clearing.

"Where's Jake?"

"He left to take a run," I answered softly. Embry and Quil made short eye contact and nodded towards each other. Embry waved goodbye and headed off in the direction in which Jacob had fled his own memories.

"That's sad," I whispered as I snuggled deeply into Quil's blazing chest.

"What is, C?"

"The Bella thing," I said into the skin of his chest. I felt him go rigid beneath the tips of my mouth.

"It ripped him up," he remarked, collapsing onto the ground and cradling me down with him. He tucked me into his shape and pulled my face towards him.

"Did he love her?" I asked, staring into those huge eyes that could drown me, no need for water.

"More than anything." Quil shook his head and nuzzled closer to me. "I don't know what I would do if you ever left," he mumbled, his hot breath spreading over my face. My heart winced at the idea.

"I wouldn't," I promised, smiling.

His smile spread slowly over his face, revealing one tooth at a time until it was wide enough to squish his cheeks.

"I love you," I said as he snuck his arms around my middle and flipped me on top of his rock hard stomach.

"I love you more," he swore, dragging my lips up to his. I could feel the beat of his heart under my right hand and it made me feel better to know that his heart was racing as fast as mine. My skin was scorching where it was in contact with his.

Our lips met with the same force as always, a gravitational pull that yanked us towards one another. My pulse fluttered as his hands traced up the sides of my abdomen and my neck, urging my lips harder onto his. I gasped as he tumbled onto the top, one of his hands sneaking under the bottom hem of my shirt. His fingers danced across the taut skin of my stomach, leaving trails of tingles in their wake. His strong lips covered mine with a sort of sensual desire that my entire body quaked beneath him, my eyes clouding with want.

He groaned my name as my hands squeezed the bulging muscles in his shoulders, making the heat beneath my stomach palpitate strongly. It was almost too much, to let him kiss me like this.

It was a taste of something that I wanted so much more. The want penetrated every inch of me as his breathing intensified and I could feel his exhales spread over my neck. The want was seeded deeply in my center, flaring at any touch of his.

He lifted up from the ground, snatching me up into his arms, and breathing heavily.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he panted, resting his forehead against mine. As the muscles in my legs spasmed and my breaths swam in and out, I'm pretty sure I know exactly what he does to me if anything. I noticed him wince a little bit and push his fingers into his temples.

"Are you okay?" I worried, remembering Sam's booming commands.

"Better than okay," he assured me, pecking me gently on the lips to drive his point home.

"Me too."

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_Author's note- Thanks so much for reading, guys!! Leave your thoughts and comments and love and gripes and criticism...anything!! Especially people who have alerts on the story, let me know how it's coming along and anything special or specific that you would like to read :)  
_


	20. Chapter 20

_Author's note- This is kind of sad. But necessary. And more Jacob. Because i couldn't leave it where i did. Although this is not much better. But its something. Faster you review the faster i can get back to fluff!! :)_

_Disclaimer. _

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"You're burning up."

"No, I'm not," she insisted shoving my hand away from her forehead.

"Yes, Claire, you are." I ran the back of my hand against her cheek which wasn't as cool as it should have been against mine.

"If you're still warmer than me," she said, grabbing my hand and pressing it against her forehead to check, "which you are. Then I am fine."

"If you had a temperature of one-oh-eight you would be dead. And therefore no longer sick. Which makes that terrible logic," I grumbled, still relishing in the fact that Claire could ruffle my feathers with her stubbornness. I rummaged through her kitchen cabinets and found the thermometer, poking it into her mouth and setting the timer.

The piece of plastic dinged. One-oh-two.

My heart skipped a beat. I always knew when Claire was sick, I'd always known. Her eyes were bleary and irritated, her throat raspy, and her mood a little less than bright.

"Claire, let's get you into bed."

"Why?"

"Because, Claire, you are sick!" She pouted and reached for the thermometer.

"Let me see that." She shook it and stared at the screen before her mouth formed a small vowel, "oh."

I grabbed her up into my arms and held her against me, greedy for any contact I could steal.

"But I don't feel sick," she persisted. I rolled my eyes and set her gently into the nest of sheets. I could see the beads of sweat that were starting to form on her upper lip. I hated when she lied to try and make me feel better.

"I hope you stay that way," I comforted, ignoring the fact that it was a fib and running my hand through her hair as I readjusted and threw a comforter over her body.

"Quil?" Her voice was so soft it actually hurt to hear.

"Yes."

"Will you get me a glass of water, please?" I would have gotten her a purple and green starfish from the bottom of the ocean if she'd wanted one.

"Sure, Claire." She was asleep when I went back into her room. I set the glass on her bedside table and flipped on some calm music when a knock at the window made me jump. Jacob stuck his head through the open hole and talked quickly.

"We have stuff to take care of, Quil."

"What kind of _stuff_?" I asked, brushing Claire's flyaways back and off of her forehead.

"Stuff you need to help us with, _stuff_," he said flatly. I cringed at the idea of leaving Claire but didn't have a choice. My heart broke as I watched her there, shifting uncomfortably in her bed. I pressed my lips against her too-hot forehead and told her I'd be back soon. "Hurry," Jacob pushed.

His urgency didn't provide me any comfort as I hopped out the window, landing lithely between the bushes. I shifted forms and trotted behind him.

_What's up?_

My mind asked.

_There's something going on at the Cullens' place._

I froze in the middle of the sopping forestry, staring disbelievingly at my friend.

_What?_

His head demanded, a little irritated.

_We aren't going to cross the border, Jake._

I planted my feet.

_Everyone else is asleep or at work, we'll be fine._

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

_Jake we are not going to cross into Forks._

His form lumbered towards me, his eyes soft and pleading.

_Quil, please. _

He pawed my leg and whined.

_What if…_

He started.

I didn't want to hear those words. But the silence was almost worse.

_What if she's back?_

His mind practically stuttered at the thought. I was bombarded instantly with thousands of images of her frosty skin and dark eyes.

_Jake, what if she's not?_

I pressed. He let out a deep sigh and fought the memory of all the pain. I winced from the onslaught.

_There's something happening._

He insisted.

_Let's go back._

I pleaded. Jacob's eyes scanned towards the north, filtering towards the big, white mansion.

_I can't._

Jacob said. And with that he sped off into the direction that I knew the house laid, closer and closer to the border. I sped behind practically screaming at him through my thoughts, counting the steps as we neared the line that was invisible to everyone else. My muscles quaked in my flanks as we flew past the deep rooted boundary, chills shooting up my spine.

After we skipped over that monumental hurtle the house seemed to approach with overwhelming speed. The looming frame stood in the distance, interrupting the waves of treetops. Its stark whiteness shone through the mist of the early evening, a small fraction of that sickly sweet scent clinging to the remnants.

_I don't like this._

I brooded, creeping lowly. I realized then that Jacob had returned to his human form. I sighed as well as I could with a snout and snatched my pants out from the chord, stuffing my legs into them.

"Jake," I hissed, not knowing why I was whispering. Jacob's feet pounded against the stairs of the porch. I ran up to the entrance and continued to shake; I could sense their presence, however old. The freezing ectoplasms made my skin crawl.

The place looked like they had been here yesterday. Every piece of furniture was clean and set in a comfortable position, the windows relatively clear. I could tell just from the scents that it had been a very long time since any vampire had entered. But still the atmosphere was eerily frozen, reminding me of the state the leeches experienced, petrifaction.

I proceeded slowly through the open rooms at the front, worrying incessantly about my bundle that was tucked away in bed, her body not as healthy as I would have wished. My heartbeat echoed with an empty knock, a piece of it having been left with her.

I found him in one of the rooms upstairs. He stood, stationary, observing something on a dresser. I approached silently, not even daring to breathe. It was a picture of the girl. Of that girl. The one girl.

Her clear skin was nearly as pale as the man's behind her. The dark hair of hers spilled over her shoulders, those circular eyes begging you into them.

I stole a glance towards Jacob's face and felt my heart clench. Tears clung to his bottom lashes, desperately awaiting their time to plunge. I hated this. He had deserved her.

"I miss her."

The words brought the pain that I, too, knew very well.

"I know you do," I replied, unsure of anything that I could say that would help. Jacob's trembling hand closed over the frame and threw it to the ground. The glass shattered and cascaded over the floor, glittering in the light of sundown. He picked up the photograph and ran his finger over her printed self. He tore the leech out of it and folded it up, shoving the thing into his pocket.

"Ready to head back?" I asked. He nodded.

* * *

I knew that he hadn't really thought that anything had happened at the mansion. He'd _hoped _that something had happened. As weird as it was, I think that he wanted them to come back. Not them really, I guess. Her. He wanted her to come back.

No one had heard us, luckily. So, for now, we were scathe free as long as we kept from thinking over that memory.

I jumped back through Claire's window and deposited myself next to her, breathing in that tantalizing smell. Her eyelashes fluttered as I patted her comforter around, trying to keep her from getting too hot.

Sometimes I felt bad for having Claire. I felt bad that I had my life here, while Jacob's was off gallivanting with murderers. But then again, he hadn't imprinted yet. We all prayed behind his back that some beautiful girl would move here or vacation here or something. Anything. He needed that. He needed reason.

"You're back?" She murmured. I smirked and felt the butterflies in my stomach wake up, she'd been waiting.

"Yeah."

She hummed a little bit and sniffed, succumbing once again to her pillow's pull. I heard the rumble of the Subaru's engine outside and rushed out to the front.

"Evening, Megan," I welcomed, grabbing a few of the groceries out of the car.

"Hi, Quil," she said in the deflated working mother tone that I had come to know. "How's my girl?" She wondered.

"Her fever's still pretty high." I set the dozen bags I scooped up on the counter and began sorting the contents.

"Where is she?" She paused, glancing to the living room couch.

"Sleeping," I answered, arranging the condiments in the fridge door. Claire's mom sunk into one of the chairs and tugged a bottle of water from the counter.

"What would I do without you?" She said thankfully.

"You'd have a lot less food to buy," I joked, smiling at her. She spun the plastic around in her hands and tore at the label, a habit that Claire had taken to.

"Quil." Her voice was almost inaudible, even for me. I pivoted towards her and arched an eyebrow. "Tomorrow is a hard day."

I stared quizzically at her for a short second before remembering. Tomorrow was the anniversary of Ron's diagnosis. The beginning of the end. I chastised myself inwardly for forgetting, Claire's petty virus had been distracting me for the past few days. I nodded sympathetically and waited for her to continue.

"I'd take her myself…" she paused and took a sharp inhale, "but I think my response would just make her more upset."

She wanted me to take Claire to visit her father, at the cemetery.

"Are you sure, Megan?" I worried for all of Claire's family. "Is there anything I can do?" She let out a heavy breath and stared into the contents of the manufactured bottle.

"Just take care of my daughter," she replied in a shaky tone.

"I can do that," I answered honestly. _I will do that, _I told myself, _forever. _

"I think Chance and I are just going over to Em's." She shifted in her chair and stood up. "It's always easier to run away." She commented dryly and sauntered towards her bedroom. My heart went out to them. But really I just dreaded the next day for Claire. I hated seeing her hurt, I hated seeing her miss him, and I hated when I caught her spacing out and knew that she was remembering him.

I walked into her room with a couple of antibiotics and a glass of water. She was in her window seat, plucking those strings that her fingers were more familiar to than anything else.

"I think I am going to play this tomorrow." She began to strum notes to a song that I'd never heard before.

"Why tomorrow?" I wondered. She winced a little bit and it made my heart tear.

"For him." That all she would say. I could feel the sadness draping over me as it did her. "I want him to hear how much better I've gotten," she looked up to me with those eyes that reminded me of melted honey butter and the edge of her mouth turned up, "but this isn't for him." She sang the chorus softly.

"Who's it for?" I sat down next to her.

"You."

My entire body was overwhelmed by the despair, joy, and devotion that encased me completely. God how I loved that girl. That one girl.

* * *

The ground was dry the next day. Claire's hand was tight on mine, like my heart was tight on hers. She flopped onto the ground in front of the stone and hung her head.

_Ronald Emerson Hill_

_1982-2014_

_Beloved father, husband, son, and brother. We'll miss you. Put in a good word for the rest of us up there._

I expected her to cry. But she didn't. I wanted to cry for her. But I didn't. I just sat down next to her as she yanked the instrument out of its case and adjusted it between her thighs. She began to play and I rested back into the grass, letting my eyelids slide closed. She hadn't let me listen to the song she was going to play for him, that was about me. But as the words floated through the air it didn't matter who she was singing for, it was just a little piece of the world's divination that had been bestowed in her, a little piece of her father that had been born in her.

* * *

_You want to catch your breath you want to get out  
But as you surface you don't really know how  
How to live upon the solid ground  
Sometimes it's easier to let yourself drown_

_Love is  
Thick like  
Blood like  
Honey_

_You cannot spell it out there are no words  
Mrs. Johnson never taught me those verbs  
On how to give myself and how to receive  
It is something that's inside of you and me_

_Love is  
Thick like  
Blood like  
Honey_

_Forget everything you ever learned  
No one listens when you want to be heard  
Just bleed the bittersweet_

_Seven sunrises and seven more nights  
_

_You'd think that we could learn to do it right  
If nothing changes then I'm gonna stop  
But do I really have a choice?  
I think not_

* * *

_Author's note- That was Like Blood Like Honey by Holly Brook, it's great. She's great. I hope the chapter was great. Leave everything guys! It means everything to me and the fate of my next chapter!! Come on! The update depends on you!_


	21. Chapter 21

_Author's note- Just some fun with the boys! Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer. _

* * *

I stared at the lumpy basket of laundry in front of the couch, wondering if I could evaporate it all under my glare.

I couldn't.

I let out a long breath and flopped into the couch cushions, grabbing a couple of shirts to fold.

"May I help?" The hot breath against my ear gave me the shivers. I felt a sultry smile uncurl over my lips. I turned and pecked him lightly on the mouth.

"Please." He jumped next to me on the couch and looked at the basket with wide eyes.

"Why is there so much?" Quil asked, half-laughing.

"Because I have been too lazy to do my laundry for about three weeks," I admitted, throwing him some shorts to arrange and pile. He chuckled and began folding, slowly making work of the mountain. I ran to the kitchen and filled some glasses of water, only to return to my worst nightmare.

"Claire?" I heard him call from the couch as I walked up.

"Yeah?"

"What are these?" He wondered, holding up a rather small pair of lacy underwear. I gulped loudly, trying to swallow the blush that charged my face.

I snatched at the things but his reflexes were much better than mine. He stared at me disbelievingly, his mouth agape, and his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Is this a thong?" He asked, dangling the pair from his pointer finger. I could have died. Actually I compiled a list of one thousand death wishes in that one second. _Kill me. Kill me now._ I thought.

"It—I don't kn—erm." I scrambled for something, anything to say. I was too embarrassed to even formulate a sentence. "Can you just hand those to me?" I finally forced myself to ask for them back. Quil was doubled over in hysterics, tears leaking from his eyes.

I seized his idea of a joke and stomped to my room, stealing the basket of folded laundry up from the floor as I went. I threw the piles of clothes onto my bed and slammed the door, fuming. A soft knock interrupted my tirade.

"Go away!"

"Claire?" His voice was much too amused to calm me down.

I didn't respond.

"Claire?" He knocked quietly again. I huffed, cursing the fact that I loved him more than anything and threw open the door.

"What?" I said exasperatedly. His puppy dog eyes made my knees weak. Ugh that sucked.

"Don't be embarrassed, C," he cooed, ruffling my bangs.

"Too late," I sulked, moving so he could come into my bedroom.

He smiled and shrugged apologetically.

"It was my fault anyways," I grudgingly acknowledged. I looked up and saw Quil standing next to my bed, eyeing the stacks of laundry.

"Do you usually wear those?" He asked, his eyes dancing to mine.

"Underwear?" I responded sarcastically, "I would hope that most people wear them."

"No, those kind." He arched his eyebrows suggestively. My heartbeat sped up.

"Are you intent on embarrassing me to death?" I wondered aloud, packing some clothes into the closet.

"I'd rather not, no," he answered honestly. I sighed loudly and clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth.

"Yeah, most of the time." I acted like I hadn't just answered his question. Quil spun to face me, his eyes as wide as tea saucers.

"Really?" His voice sounded like he was out of breath as his gaze darted to my legs. My cheeks burned intensely.

"Please stop," I begged him, pivoting back towards my racks of clothes, "this is beyond embarrassing—"

My sentence was cut short by a pair of steaming lips that slammed into mine. His hard chest pinned me against the wall. One of his hands ran the length behind my leg, lifting behind my knee so that one of my legs was around his waist. My hands shook as I brushed my fingers over the muscles in his neck. These were the kinds of kisses in my dreams and I, for one, was not going to break it off.

His lips were silk against mine and I gasped lowly as his tongue slipped gently into my mouth, caressing my own. I pressed my pelvis against his, evoking a growl from the bottom of his throat. I'd never heard anything that sexy. And I had never been more thankful that Quil wasn't typically inclined to wearing shirts.

My fingers trailed across the sculpted muscles that were his shoulders, trickling down the definition in his biceps; all the way down to wear his wrists were holding me in place. His hands danced around the top of my jeans.

"Go ahead," I said breathlessly. He froze, all of him. I put my mouth back against his and felt my heart hammer against the ribs in front of it. Two of his fingers slid under the hem and just ran slowly across the lace (similar to that which he had just become very familiar with) that was there before he cradled me down into his arms and away from his lips. My hair was a mess and my cheeks were flushed, my heart continued to pound and my skin tingled everywhere.

His eyes were squeezed shut as he bounced me back onto the bed, dropping his forehead against the heels of his hands.

"Are you alright?" I asked, letting my fingers run over his. He snickered and looked at me through the breaks in his hands.

"More than alright," he assured me. He let his deep breath shoot from him as he sat next to me. "I shouldn't have asked if you ever wore those," he disclosed, shaking his head.

"Why?" I wondered, feeling naïve.

"I have a hard enough time resisting you typically," he confessed. I felt my heart flutter. "And then when I get those types of images in my head." His head bobbed from side to side as he considered it.

"I wouldn't mind if that happened too often," I divulged, laughing to myself. Quil smirked and nodded.

"Me neither," he replied. I almost jumped on him right then and there. "But, I'd also like to keep my head," he teased, referring to Sam. Suddenly my stomach fell, would we ever really be allowed to be together the way we wanted to be?

_Not if Sam has anything to say about it,_ the realist articulated.

I almost fell over in disappointment.

The statue of perfection spoke slowly, "so I think we'll just have to wait until your next birthday."

Next birthday? When I was sixteen? Seven months versus the rest of my life? My stomach readjusted into its usual position, jitters tickling the walls. I could do that.

Quil had just left to take a run when Embry sauntered up to my front porch, flipping his keys on his finger.

"Hey," he greeted, giving me a tight hug.

"What are you up to?" I said, my words muffled by the mouthful of sandwich that Quil had made me.

Embry shifted from foot to foot, scratching his ear.

* * *

We walked through the automatic doors of the drug store in Port Angeles, a ding signaling our arrival.

"Embry!" I was completely and totally frustrated by this point in time. "Tell me why we are here or I am walking all the way back home!"

"Now, Claire, Quil would be very upset with me if I let that happen," he mentioned condescendingly, wagging a finger in my face.

"Well then you better figure a response pretty quickly." I placed a hand on my hip and sunk my weight onto one of my legs.

"I told you that I needed your help," he replied coolly. I sighed and pulled my hands down my face, yanking my cheeks down in aggravation.

The aisles passed by us as we strolled over the linoleum. A little boy cried and tugged on his mom's leg, pointing to a container of silly putty that he wanted. The mother rolled her eyes and lifted the boy into the cart, humming to herself as the tears continued. We waltzed past the cashier's stations and one eyed Embry, lifting her eyebrow suggestively in his direction. He didn't seem to notice and the girl pouted as he swung an arm around my shoulder to steer me around a corner. Ha. If only she knew what my real one looked like, I would've liked to see her swoon over him. She probably would have fallen over. My stomach did a little dance as I thought of him.

And then we stopped. Oh God I wish my legs had been more awake because I should have run. Run so far away. Run all the way back home. But no, little ole' me was just stuck, staring at the looming wall of condoms. I think my legs were actually woozy because all of the blood in my body had pooled beneath my cheeks.

"You can't be serious," I guffawed, still staring wide-eyed at the expansive collection. Embry punched me lightly in the arm.

"Aw, c'mon Claire, I need help picking," he begged, eyeing the wall as well. I grunted in disgust and squeezed my eyes shut while trying to get the phrase, _lubricated for the pleasure of two, _out of my head.

"No," I replied rudely, turning and beginning to march back to the front of the store. Boys are so gross.

Wait.

Had Quil ever bought one?

My pulse hopped like a pogo stick. Embry's hot hand closed over my shoulder and spun me towards him.

"Please, Claire?" He made his eyes go huge and blinked his long eyelashes at me.

"That only works when Quil does it," I pointed out. He laughed and pulled me back towards the wall. I swear I dug my heels into that floor as hard as I possibly could and left scuff marks from the bottoms of my sandals. Curse the strength of werewolves.

"Embry, I don't know why you want my help anyways!" I retorted, yelping as he tossed a box at me.

"C'mon Claire you'll be able to help me in this department!" He cried. I felt the fury build behind my eyes as I shot daggers at him through my glare.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I spat. He snickered, which made me even angrier, and pulled down a few more boxes to read.

"Maybe I should have invited Casey along instead…" he muttered beneath his breath. The irritation in my stomach blew up and I hurled a box of contraceptives at his face.

"I hate you!" I screamed, stamping my feet as I marched to the front of the store.

"Claire!" Embry called, still laughing. I refused to answer him and took to jogging towards the automatic doors. "Stop!" He demanded lowly, wrapping a long arm around my waist just as I stepped onto the mat. He sighed and looked straight at me, "what are you doing?"

"Planning the best route home on foot," I snapped. He smiled and shook my shoulders a little bit.

"Can I just say one thing before you decide to leave?" He asked, I grunted and shrugged, awaiting the apology. "What do you think?" He displayed two identical boxes, "am I a Magnum or King XL?" He weighed each in his hands, his eyes sparkling with trouble.

I spun on my heel and stomped out onto the sidewalk, rolling my eyes and cursing under my breath.

* * *

_Author's note- Thanks for the read guys! Buckets of love to all of my reviewers!! You guys really keep me on my game!! _

_Okay, so here is where Kap has gotten a little lazy. I really want a good list of songs to put to Quil and Claire, but sifting through my library is getting me nowhere fast!! Soooo...i'm asking for you guys to help me with the list!! Review and let me know your list for the lovebirds! And for compensation? Whoever's i end up using will get a special character named after them in upcoming chapters!! Happy Hunting!_

_-KaPpErZ_


	22. Chapter 22

_Author's note- Enjoy! Thanks for all of your help on the songs/ideas/everything! You guys are the greatest! i don't know what i would do without you. Honestly, reviewers, thanks for everything. it really is a pleasure to write for you. i hope you continue to like what i'm writing and keep leaving all of the encouragement! it means so much!! _

_Special, special thanks to for their contributions to the list thus far, more additions would be appreciated!:_

_ALTA, witchbeth, topazaddiction, blackwolfgirl87, PassionateDarkness, rin09_

_Disclaimer._

* * *

  


"What do you mean you're leaving?" I said, not even able to wrap my head around those words.

"My dad got transferred," Cam whispered, scrubbing some of the water globs that had formed on her chin away. School started in less than a week. Camille and I had started every school year together since we were in preschool. She couldn't leave. She'd never even been out of Washington before.

"Where?"

"Iowa," she supplied dismally.

"Ew." It wasn't much of a response. But it really was the only thing I could muster. She smiled and giggled a little bit.

"Totally," she agreed.

And then the next day she left. Her dad had been given four days to move out and find a house in Des Moines. And suddenly I found myself lacking the other feminine half of me.

Sometimes I think we forget how much our friends really mean. They're the sisters and brothers that our parents didn't have the patience to have; they're the best and worst pieces of us at the same time; they're sleepovers and tears and laughter and happiness and sadness and understanding and bittersweet all at the same time.

And mine was gone.

I didn't want to cry, because I hate crying. But Cam deserved my tears. And my inner tap switched on faster than I could control it anyways. They weren't sobs though, just quiet tears. I lifted my guitar up from the rug and strummed it absentmindedly, turning my tears into notes.

"Claire?" Those hot arms twisted around my middle and I couldn't help but melt into them. "Is everything okay?"

"Define okay," I asked, still playing my guitar.

He gently grabbed the side of my face and turned me towards him with all the care in the world.

"What happened, C?" He whispered, his eyes pained by the sight of my tears.

"Cam is moving." I bit my lip. "Cam moved, actually." His eyebrows knit together.

"Moved where? There's only one neighborhood here."

"She moved to Des Moines," I relented, picking my guitar back up. His eyes swelled with sorrow, which didn't help my mood at all.

"Oh, Claire, I'm so sorry."

"I know."

"How are you feeling?"

I chuckled lowly to myself, trying to put the feeling into words.

"I feel like someone took half of my brain, heart, vocal box, stomach, and sense of humor and threw it halfway across the country." I glanced down to my shaking fingers. "That's how I feel."

He looked out of the window, his arms still tight around my middle, his face sullen. Those loamy eyes seemed so warm that I just wanted to cuddle up to them, give them everything I had in me, just so that they'd promise to stare at me and me only, forever.

"Claire, I don't even know what to say," he admitted, falling next to me on the comforter.

"Me neither." I shrugged, plucking along.

* * *

I didn't know what to say, but I did know what I _wanted _to say. Everything.

I wanted to tell her that I loved her. That I loved the way her nose wrinkled at the top when she laughed really hard, the way her lips pressed together when she was thinking hard, the way her shoulders tensed when she was mad, the way her eyes darted when she was embarrassed.

I wanted to tell her that I didn't know what I would do if she ever moved. I wanted to tell her that most of the time I was terrified that she would realize how dangerous I really was and run as far as she could away from me. I should have told her how much my heart ached when I wasn't around her, the way my stomach lurched whenever she tripped, thinking that she may have hurt herself. I could have told her how often I had nightmares over the incident that landed her in the hospital.

But I didn't, mostly because that kind of honesty seemed too heavy for the moment. For any moment really, until she was older. Old enough. Once those kinds of words had been said, all of those valves opened, it was silly to think that we'd hold back other things…anything…which included restraint.

But if I was honest with myself, I knew exactly what every single one of my nightmares and greatest fears consisted of. Losing her.

Just the words as I thought them over brought panic into my chest, a frantic, thudding panic. I felt her breath spread over my neck as she snuggled against my chest. My heart beat quickened as her breaths collided steadily with my tensed neck muscles.

My chest stung beneath her as I felt the hot water from her eyes roll over my bare skin and I strengthened my hold around her.

"Can we just fall asleep right here?" She whispered. I smiled, dipping my fingers into that luscious head of hair.

"Fine with me," I sighed, drawing my fingers across her cheeks in order to collect the tears.

"I wish we could," she confided, her voice shaky from the emotion in her throat. My body heated up just at the thought.

"Honestly, Claire, I fall asleep with you every night," I admitted, continuing to comb my hands through her mane. She glanced questioningly up at me, "C, you're the last thing in my head before I go to bed, the first thing I think of when I get up, and in all of my dreams." I shrugged as her cheeks reddened lightly. "So you're practically with me the entire night anyways."

She chuckled dryly, her eyes not meeting her lips in the smirk.

"Yeah, I'm hard to get rid of," she joked, running her fingers over my shoulders. My skin prickled beneath the trails that her fingertips left. If only she knew what she did to me. That every second I was with her my lips parted in an urgent need to touch her skin, her lips, her tongue, all of which had a sensitively cinnamon taste to them.

I shut my eyes and blew carbon dioxide out from my nostrils, pushing the intoxicating images from my head.

"You start school on Monday," I mentioned, only realizing the short amount of time we had left right then. I felt my cheeks tighten and my chest constrict uniformly. I hated when she went back to school. I got spoiled over the summers when I got to keep her all to myself, practically all day long. Then I had to release her back into the education system, doomed to miss her terribly for those long seven hours.

"Don't remind me," she whined, shutting her eyes. _Don't remind me, either._ I commented sadly to myself.

"It'll be nice, I'll bet," I said encouragingly. I could feel her scowl against my ribs. My phone vibrated in my jeans pocket. I flipped it open to Jake's number.

"What?" I answered.

"Wanna go get dinner?" He asked, I could hear him picking something from his teeth at the same time.

"I'm with Claire," I responded wryly.

"So invite her."

I grimaced a bit and held the phone away from my mouth.

"Wanna go to dinner with Jake and I?" I asked Claire, knowing that she wouldn't feel up to it.

"Sure, sure, that's fine," she murmured, heaving herself up from next to me and plodding to the bathroom. I stared disbelievingly at her exiting figure, barely resisting grabbing her back next to me and re-asking the question.

"She says that'd fine," I told him. He mumbled incoherently and I told him we'd pick him up when she was ready.

"Alright, see you then," he ended, clicking off the line.

The diner outside of Forks was typical small town, which was fine with us. Claire flopped inanimately next to me on the booth as Jacob spread out over the one in front of us, practically taking up the whole thing. I stared unseeingly out of the windows, internally brooding over the few days I had left with Claire until the school year started.

The waitress came, her curls tucked loosely behind her ears. Claire and I ordered pancakes and Jacob ordered everything else on the menu.

"Why do you eat so much?" I prodded.

"I'm hungry."

"I'm just as hungry as you are and I don't devour an entire kitchen's worth of food."

Jake shot me a disapproving glare. "At least not in front of other people," I defended, rolling my eyes as Jacob and Claire laughed at me.

And then the rain seemed to freeze as I was shot back almost fourteen years. I would have sworn on my life that Bella Swan…or Cullen, or whoever she was, was walking up to that diner. That nearly translucent skin looked chalky in the clouded light. The same chestnut hair fell out of her purple hood, the bangs sloping downward next to her face. She wore those same flat tennis shoes as Claire, Converse I think.

But then I saw those bush-baby eyes that practically shimmered through the rain. Those hauntingly clear grey eyes. Those I knew did not belong to Bella. I would have remembered Swan's eyes for a million years, thanks to Jacob's vivid recollections.

But everything else…really, I would have said it was _her_. The girl spun through the door and sat in the closest empty booth, ordering a cup of coffee as she scanned the rest of the menu. She grabbed a pencil that the waitress had left on the tabletop and began doodling on her napkin, swiftly etching her palm in arching circles and sharp corners.

I thanked greater powers for the fact that she wasn't sitting in Jacob's eye line. He probably would have been in front of her faster than any of us could blink.

"Quil?" Jacob called, tapping a spoon on the table in front of me.

"What?" I snapped out of my observations.

"I've asked you four different times when that one band we like is coming to Seattle," he said, spinning the spoon around on its head.

"Oh," I muttered, breaking my gaze with the girl's pirouetting hand, "I can't remember."

"Why are you being so weird?" Claire wondered, poking my arm with her pointer finger. I flinched playfully and shoved her hand away, clutching those gentle fingers between mine for a little longer than necessary.

"I'm not," I determined. She fiddled with the fork's spokes in her mouth, knitting her eyebrows in a quizzical way. Her eyes drifted from me and locked on something a little more interesting. I sunk onto my elbows and just watched her, the way she twirled the silverware around on her tongue.

"Hey Jake?" She mumbled with the stem of the utensil between her lips. He nodded in recognition, "what'd you say that girl looked like?" My throat closed up.

"Which girl?" He grumbled, spilling salt onto the table and moving it around with the tip of his finger.

"_The _girl," she stressed. His eyes went wide and suspicious.

"Why?" He stared at Claire's stone expression, waiting for a clue. She set down the fork and tapped the table with her fist.

"I'll be right back," she said, stepping out from my booth. _No, don't! _I wanted to yell.

My Claire just waltzed over there like she didn't have a care in the world and slid into the booth with the pseudo-Bella.

* * *

"Hi," I greeted, sticking my hand over the table. She smirked at me and grabbed my hand, squeezing it gently. Her napkin was full of whimsical creatures I noticed. "I'm Claire." She smiled fully this time and swept the bangs back from her eyes.

"Shelby," she returned. "Shelby Rein."

"Rain?" I wondered, that was a cool last name.

"It's with an 'e', but yeah," she acquiesced, pulling her knees under her on the cushioned seat. "You can call me Stormy, though." She picked up her mug of coffee and sipped carefully at it.

"Stormy?" I smiled at the nickname; at least this girl was original. "Where'd you get that?"

"My eyes." She laughed, a bubbly chirping sound. "My mom says they're always cloudy." Stormy tapped her fingers against the ceramic in her hand, "plus my last name is precipitation. How much more fitting could it get?" She rolled her eyes playfully, her sarcasm being laid on thick.

"Well, Stormy," I explained tentatively, Jacob deserved another girl, "I'd like you to meet a friend of mine."

I turned around to see that he was already behind me, his eyes piqued in memory.

"This is Jacob," I pointed, "Jake, this is Shelby." She set her cup down and smiled cheerfully, offering him a hand to shake.

"Stormy," she corrected, winking at me. I glanced worriedly back at her, realizing that Jacob still hadn't said anything. "Does it speak?" She asked me in a light tone. Jake shook his head and blinked his eyes.

"I'm…erm…sorry, you just remind me of someone," he edited himself, apologizing.

* * *

_Author's note- Thanks for the read! I hope it was to your liking! Leave any thoughts with the periwinkle below, he'll be happy to pass them on to me. The playlist is coming soon!  
_


	23. Chapter 23

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_Author's note- Longer chapter...first days are always long. Future fluff alert :) and an exciting surprise gift at the bottom! yay! what could be better?!_

* * *

Quil swung up to the curb at school and put the car in park, the engine rumbling beneath us.

"I'm dreaming." My nose was pressed up against the window, my breath fogging over the glass as the rain poured outside.

"You think so?" Quil joked, "why? 'Cuz I'm here right?" He jeered. I smirked and glanced at him over my shoulder.

"I meant dreaming as in having a nightmare."

He froze. I laughed and he relaxed a little bit, loosening up and reaching over to open my door.

"Don't open it!" I demanded, covering the latch with my stomach. "This has to be a nightmare, and I am not getting wet for the sake of a nightmare!"

He rolled his eyes at me and lifted me into his lap.

"If this were a real nightmare then you wouldn't really get wet, would you?" He asked. I groaned and slumped into his arms as he opened his own door.

"Quil, don't!" I yelled as he stepped onto the asphalt. I immediately felt the splatters of the rain drops on my face and the chill of the wind as it snuck through my jacket's zipper. He jogged over to the passenger side and lifted my bag out, hanging it on my shoulder. I jutted out my bottom lip and allowed my eyelashes to bat.

He laughed at me and pulled me in for a tight hug, "you'll be fine, I swear!"

"You don't know that," I retorted. I looked up to him and gave a wary expression, "something very bad could happen while I was here, alone," I warned. He rolled his eyes and pushed me towards the building.

"Please go before I actually give into you," he pleaded. I felt my pride glow.

"You mean its working?" I asked excitedly. He shook his head and hurried back into the car.

"Claire!" Someone called from behind me, their yell mixing with the struggle of the truck's engine. I turned and saw a glowing, and recently familiar girl jog up to me.

"Stormy?" I greeted, surprised. She smiled gleefully, her eyes twinkling, and nodded enthusiastically. "You go here?" I knew I had never seen her anywhere around here before.

"Now I do," she commented, swiping those dramatic bangs of hers into the hood of her sweatshirt. "I just transferred from Bellevue."

"That's so exciting!" I replied, keeping time with her steps as we walked towards the common room. "What classes are you taking?" She handed me her schedule. It was full of Advanced Placements and independent studies. "Wow, these are hard classes, and they're all for seniors," I stared quizzically over at her.

"Well I'd hope so," she said slowly, "since I'm a senior." She drew the word out like I it was in a different language.

I'd never asked how old she was. I mentally blushed, trying to keep the real thing from erupting in my face. Isn't it weird how we always just assume people are our age unless they tell us otherwise?

"Oh," I laughed a little bit, "well I guess that would make sense then." She pinched my schedule from my hands and scanned it quickly.

"But look!" She pointed halfway down the page. "We have art together!"

I hated art. I hated the fact that they didn't offer music. I was the most pathetic excuse for an artist that has ever walked the earth.

"Gosh, I just hate that class," I commented humouredly. She smiled sympathetically and handed my sheet back to me.

"It's my favorite!" She confided. The bell rang and she winced. "Claire, before you head out; do you think you could tell me which way room 407 is?"

I nodded quickly and directed her down the eastern hallway. She thanked me profusely and waved, running to her first period. I don't know how to describe the day other than long. Torturously, so. The bells of passing periods droned in my ears, the whispers of gossipy students in my head, and the sludge of grassy mud on my shoes. I couldn't help but daydream of Quil. My mind danced through the memories of the summer that had been way too short.

Unfortunately ever train of thought ended in his lips, which ended in my cheeks being very flushed and my heart pumping very hard.

When lunch finally rolled around I almost wept with relief. I trudged to the cafeteria, grabbing a milk and apple, not bothering with a tray. I scanned the tables, trying to decide between sitting between a few of my "friends" (you know the girls who smile and wave at you in the halls and chat with you during class, but would be the last people in the world you would call on the weekends?) or just eating in my next classroom. I flipped towards the door, the ultimatum swaying towards the side of solidarity.

"Claire!" I heard to my right as I was shuffling out. Stormy sat at a table to herself, a novel and sketch book in front of her. "Come sit with me," she said kindly, pushing a chair out with her foot.

I groaned inwardly, having just decided to have a lunch of sulking and seething. But I outwardly smiled and acquiesced, bending into the chair.

"How have your classes been so far?" I asked politely.

"Good enough," she supplanted, "do you have a sister, by the way?"

"Yeah, Chance."

Stormy nodded and drew circles in the air with her spoon as she swallowed her pudding.

"She's in my math class." She set the spoon down and snatched up the book. "You two look a lot alike."

I blushed a bit. Me looking like Chance? It seemed highly unlikely.

"Really?" I wondered. "You think so?" Stormy nodded and smirked, tilting her head and twirling a finger in her hair.

The rest of the day passed agonizingly slowly. My eyes stayed glued to the second hand as it crawled around the clock face. Quil's lips kept flashing behind my lids each time I blinked, making those seconds that much harder to bear.

I practically sprinted out of my last classroom and skid into the hall. I almost ran straight to the curb, but noticed Chance and Reagan chatting by the lockers and I hadn't heard from Reag since the kitchen fiasco.

"Hey girls," I mumbled as I shuffled up. Chance was skimming her text messages and blowing bubbles with her gum.

"Hi, C!" Reagan responded excitedly. She reached down and slipped an arm around my shoulder. "How is everything?"

I shrugged and readjusted the backpack that I was still not used to wearing.

"Quil?" She pressed. "How is he?" I smiled at his mention, the heat rising in my chest.

"Great," I promised, not bothering to hide my delight. "How's Paul though?"

Her smile fell a little but her eyes stayed bright.

"He's good," she said. I felt an incredible amount of relief. "He's really good," she reaffirmed. I smiled warmly and squeezed her hand in mine. She winked at me and squeezed in return, an understanding passing between the two of us, "double date sometime?"

I laughed, "Friday?" She looked to her feet for one second and ran over the schedule in her head.

"Perfect!"

I squealed and gave her another tight embrace before rushing to the place I knew my wolf would be. The truck was resting in its typical place, inviting all of my pent up longing from the entire day to explode in one single moment. Quil stepped out from the driver side with a huge grin in place and jogged slowly towards me.

"Hey," he hummed softly. He pushed the backpack off of my shoulders and picked me up, crashing his lips into mine. I was stingy in my enjoyment, having waited all day for my dose of him. I should have been embarrassed about the fact that other students were walking through the parking lot, but I wasn't. 

And what made me happiest was that it was obvious that he had missed me just as much. His lips were like chocolate to me, something I would never ever get enough of. They were hot, soft, and pushing mine around in the perfect way. When he'd finally slowed and gently kissed me one last time, he set me onto the ground.

"Hi." I finally responded. He smirked and threw my backpack over his shoulder.

"How was your day?" He asked, tossing my bag into the bed of the truck.

"I'm not going to school ever again," I swore, he only laughed, if only he knew that I was completely and totally serious, "never."

"You have to go to school, Claire," he told me, his smile still in place.

"No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do."

"Says who?"

"Me," he stressed firstly, putting up a finger and readying to count, "your mom, your aunt, your uncle, the government?" He added sternly. I huffed and rolled my eyes.

"Well it sucks."

He chuckled and grabbed my shoulder, shaking me around.

"Do you think I could shake that frown from your face?" He asked. I smirked a little bit and grabbed his fingers in mine. "I guess that's a yes," he said as my teeth showed themselves.

"What do you do during the day?" I questioned.

"You mean while you're at school?" He clarified. I rolled my eyes and guffawed.

"Well since you're with me all day on the weekends and were with me the entire summer I know exactly what you do on those days…so I think it's pretty safe to assume that I am talking about when I'm at school."

"Wow, sarcasm much?" He choked out a laugh at my bemused expression. "Well, sometimes I sleep, if Sam gave me a night run. But usually I'm doing the bookkeeping and finance stuff for Jake's garage."

"You do?" I didn't think anyone had ever told me that.

"Yeah, he pays me more than I deserve but it's no problem for me; he just knows that he's terrible at it." He shrugged. "So he has me do it, I was always better at math than him anyhow."

"I'm terrible at math."

Pessimism had now taken a very heavy seat into my head, I realized. A huffy and bothered cloud settled over me, making my scowl practically radiate irritation.

"You most certainly have the first-day-back-to-school-blues," he observed, poking my cheek with his finger. I sighed but chose not to respond. I should have been much happier seeing as I had been daydreaming about him for the past seven hours. But looking forward to another seven hours of torture for the next day, and the day after that, and the day after…for the next nine months?

Well, needless to say, it landed me in a very sour mood.

"How about we bake something?" He suggested sweetly.

"Bake something?" I looked at him with a surely puzzled expression. He snickered at my reaction and nodded.

"Sure, how about some brownies?"

I shook my head in good humor and giggled lightly.

"Alright then, I'll make you some brownies," he promised.

When Quil sets to something, anything, he puts his best effort forth. Putting me in a better mood and baking me some gooey treats, was no exception. He whirled me inside the house, tilting with me this way and that way, a poor mimicking of extreme waltzing.

I couldn't help but laugh. I couldn't ignore the sheer pleasure he created in me, the kind that seeped into everything and made it tingle. He placed me onto the countertop and threw one of my mother's aprons around his waist, stealing the cooking bowls from the cupboards as he went.

"Have you ever heard that song that's like_: perfect every way, I finally found the nerve to confess that it's you - that I want, I don't care if I act a fool, I would damn near beg for you_?" He half sang the song as he skewered a few eggs and scrambled them in the powdery mess he was mixing in the bowl.

"Ha, yes, Quil, I know exactly what song that is."

He smiled at me convincingly and pouted his lips in the most desirable way.

"Play it for me, Claire?" He requested quietly. I couldn't help but let the happiness crawl up my body and settle over my face. He'd never asked for anything like that before.

"I'd love to."

I ran and gathered up my guitar, hurrying back into the kitchen and sliding onto the tile counter top. He chuckled and stirred to the strokes of my hands over the tautened strings, humming along. I had never thought that Quil would have _ever_ liked this song. But hey, everyone has guilty pleasures, right?

"_The proper thing to do  
Is for me to act like a lady and wait_

_For you to make the first move_."

I laughed hysterically as Quil mouthed the words that sang from my mouth, continuing to prepare the brownies. He scooped the spoon out of the bowl and handed it to me, still covered in chocolate.

"_But I don't think you're getting the point  
That it's you - that I want  
I don't care if I act a fool  
I would damn near beg for you  
Put aside, all my pride  
So don't keep me hanging here  
Cause this girl is falling stupid for you  
Oh, oh stupid for you_."

He set the pan in the oven and fixed the timer, sighing and detaching the apron. I abruptly cut off my playing even though I wasn't even half way through and stared at him amusedly.

"What?" He said, confused.

"Quil, why do you like that song?" I asked.

"Am I not allowed to like that song?" He demanded gruffly. I chuckled and shook my head.

"You can like anything you want, Quil," I soothed him sarcastically. He snickered at my response and came up in front of me. "You have batter on your face," I told him. He grinned mischievously.

"Mind fixing that for me?"

My heart bounced, the rhythm becoming limber and twisted. I saw Quil's smile widen, knowing he could hear it all, and blushed. I leaned forward and carefully pressed my lips against the few smears of chocolate across his face, allowing my tongue to lick them off completely. I left my favorite one for last, the one on the side of his lips. He hummed lowly as I cleared the mess, gently pecking him on the lips.

"You're clean," I declared happily. He looked questioningly over to me.

"Ya sure, Claire?"

My expression bent up in amusement as I snorted at the comment.

"Pretty sure," I announced.

"I think I see a little bit of batter on your face too, C," he proclaimed in an entirely too innocent voice.

"Oh really?" I returned the tone. He nodded, a massive smile in place.

"Right here," he stated softly as his lips neared my own. The next few minutes left me dazed and star-struck, hardly able to construct a sentence let alone stand straight. And I had a hard time believing that Quil could even hear due to the terrible headache he was sure to have.

I never knew Quil was so good at clearing away the first-day-back-to-school-blues. And I intended on depending on him to cure me of every other school day's worth of blues that I would ever suffer from. And from that standpoint, school days didn't seem that bad, not if they could end like that.

* * *

_And now, the fruits of my musical labor. _

_It goes in relative order and has the perspective to which it relates in the side notes. Thanks to everyone who helped :) you guys rock! I'm sure I'll produce an edited version once this whole thing is finished...which is pending since i don't see an end in sight anytime soon! Honestly this is a flawless playlist, at least in my mind. So i hope you all enjoy the selections and take the time to review them, because they really are superb! _

_And now, a drum roll please..._

The Playlist:

Clare: Orwell (Q)

Message from your heart: Kina Grannis (C)

Satellite: Dave Matthews Band (Q)

Call The Police: James Morrison (Q, regarding Sam)

Peaches and Cream: John Butler Trio (Casey sings it on the porch)

Unfold: Marie Digby (C to both of the guys)

Until You: Dave Barnes (C to both)

Come on Get Higher: Matt Nathanson (C to Q)

Matchbox: The Kooks (Q)

Warm Whispers: Missy Higgins (C)

Realize: Colbie Caillat (C to Q)

Stupid for You: Marie Digby (C)

I'm Yours: Jason Mraz (C and Q)

Like Blood Like Honey: Holly Brook (C)

Crash into Me: Dave Matthews Band (Q)

You'll Be In My Heart: Phil Collins (Q)

Take Me Away: Lifehouse (C and Q)

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_Author's note- okay, the real one this time lol. Leave all thoughts and opinions guys! I hope you like the songs!! They're some of my favorites. :) 'til next time!  
_


	24. Chapter 24

_Author's note- I'm so sorry for the wait! I caught a minor case of writer's block! But don't worry, the next chapter has already been started so i think i'm fully recovered. _

_Disclaimer. _

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I felt the acid of my jealousy leak into my glare as I watched Paul with Reagan. It wasn't that I wasn't happy for him, because honestly I was. It was just that…as I watched him with her, the way he cupped the sides of her hips and gently pulled her into him, kissing her softly on the side of her neck, I saw how unhindered he was, how free he was to be the way he wanted to be with her. It wasn't like I didn't do those things with Claire…but I wasn't _supposed _to. I had rules, I had boundaries, Paul didn't.

He let his hand trail up her side as he showed her how to throw the bowling ball down the lane, squeezing her tightly as she giggled at his touch. I instinctually laid my hand over the shoulder of the precious bundle beside me, tensing my muscles over her.

"I swear these are the wrong size!" Claire cried from underneath my arm, struggling to stuff her foot into the bowling shoe.

"Maybe you have bigger feet than you thought," I suggested, laughing through the statement. She rolled her eyes and continued to tug. I chuckled beneath my breath and set her on my lap. "Here." I grabbed her ankle and stretched the back of the shoe out, gently fitting her foot into the slick-bottomed shoe.

"I feel like I'm five," she pouted, laughing as I pushed her foot into the other shoe as well.

"I feel like your hands aren't as strong as mine and couldn't stretch the shoe enough to get them in," I decided, pecking her quickly on the cheek.

"Yep, sounds about right," she stated, hopping off of my lap and sliding into the seat in front of the control panel. "So…what should our names be?" She asked.

Reagan piped up quickly, "put yourself in as Claire Bear!"

"No," Claire said with a smile.

"Oh, come on! That one's cute!" Reagan insisted.

"But I don—" Claire attempted to continue. Reagan pushed in front of her and typed in the nickname as Claire fought behind her.

"Too late." Reagan smirked. "It's been confirmed."

"Fine." Claire's eyes glittered wickedly. "Paul, what do you think I should put Reagan in as?"

"Puddin' pop," he responded quickly. Claire giggled and gave him an amused expression as she entered it, much to Reagan's dismay.

"Reagan, one for Paul?" Claire solicited.

"Peanut," she replied with a defiant grin in place.

"Wait!" Paul complained. "That one doesn't even make sense!" Claire began to punch it in anyways, "No, Claire don't!" He called, "I am anything but a peanut!"

My girl lit up with hilarity and answered quickly, "Well apparently Reag does not agree."

Claire and Reagan continued to cackle as Paul's cheeks burned fiercely, the understated and probably false insult really only occurring to us.

"What are you going to put Quil in as?" Reagan wondered, dancing towards the plastic podium.

"Muffin bear," Claire articulated, winking at me as I shook my head disapprovingly.

She couldn't bowl if her life depended on it. But it was fun to watch. She laughed loudly as the ball fell out of her hand, rolling into another lane. She almost slipped and fell on her face in those shoes but I was right under her, planting her back on her feet.

"You're up, Peanut," I said darkly, winking at Paul as he growled at me.

"Gosh I am just so terrible at this!" Claire cried, plopping into the seat next to mine.

"But it is so fun to watch," I claimed, hugging her tightly. She groaned and looked towards something else that had caught her eye.

"No way!" She muttered.

"What?" I asked, glancing around. Her eyes narrowed as her smile grew. She pointed to my right.

"Wait is that…" I trailed.

"It's Stormy!" She squealed.

"With Jacob…" I added. She nodded enthusiastically and bounced out of her chair.

Paul came to my shoulder and grunted.

"Is that Jake?" He wondered, his voice befuddled.

"You bet."

"Who's he with?"

"Stormy."

"What the hell kind of name is that?" Paul stated. I laughed at his blunt humor.

"It's not her real name."

"Oh," he murmured, "well it's an alright nickname I guess." Reagan appeared at his side.

"Hey! She goes to school with me!" Reagan noted, glancing over to where Claire had ardently greeted Stormy _and _Jacob.

"I didn't know she went to school over here," I mentioned. I couldn't remember Claire telling me that.

"Let's go say hi!" Reagan suggested. I obliged but Paul looked a little uneasy, only agreeing once she had beamed her tricky smile his way.

Paul and I meandered slowly towards the small crew that had formed around the booths of lane seven. Jacob was standing awkwardly to the side as Reagan and Claire attacked Stormy with questions and hugs.

"Hey Jake," I said. He shook his black hair to the side.

"Hey guys," he replied, clearly relieved to see some male companions in close range. We sat into the chairs and continued watching the girls as they tittered and fluttered excitedly around one another.

"I've never figured out how they have so much to talk about all the time," Paul pointed out, staring questioningly over at the girls.

"Who knows," Jacob agreed, his voice gruff.

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortably forming the question that was in my head on my tongue.

"So, you uh…came here with Stormy then?" I prodded. He nodded subtly.

"Yeah."

"How…is she?" Paul wondered. Jake had been busy in the garage and hadn't come on runs for the past week so I hadn't had the chance to survey his head. I held my breath, praying for the thing that I'd been waiting to hear Jacob say for years.

"Fine, I think," Jake said bemusedly. I tapped my foot as my legs got antsy.

"You know what we mean, man," I reiterated. Jacob let out a long sigh.

"Well if you wondering about—" he nodded towards Claire and Reagan, "_that,_ then no—it's not her."

I felt my chest deflate with disappointment. Jake deserved an imprint. He deserved something special.

"But I like her," he said, a goofy smile in place. His eyes ogled in their sockets, glinting humouredly as he gazed at her.

"Glad to hear it, brother," Paul asserted, smiling at Jacob.

"Thanks, Paul," he said, letting his grin grow a little bit.

Claire ran up to me, placing her small hands against my chest.

"Hey Quil?" She mumbled.

"Yeah, Claire."

"Can we go now?" She asked, her smile wickedly wide. I played stupid and grinned innocently at her.

"Why would we want to do that?" I provoked. She rolled her eyes. The speakers crackled as a staff member at the bowling alley's voice boomed over the loud speaker.

"Will _Muffin Bear_ from lane four please report to the front desk to pick up the score sheets?"

Claire's eyes sparked with mischief as she stared at me pointedly.

"That's you," she announced clearly. Paul and Jacob were in stitches of laughter as I drew my hand slowly down my brow, trying to hide the embarrassment that had flushed over my face. I stomped towards the desk and threw the sheet at a hooting Paul, grabbing Claire's hand.

"Let's get out of here," I stated, tugging her towards the exit.

"See ya, _Muffin Bear_," Jacob teased, his smile huge. I knew it would take a long time for them to forget this one.

"Bye guys!" Claire called. "See you Monday, Stormy and Reag!" They yelled equally pleasant goodbyes and laughed until I had gotten far enough away that I couldn't hear them any longer. I wrapped my arms around her waist and balanced her on the bed of my truck.

"You are in big trouble," I affirmed. She snickered delectably and licked her lips.

"You sure about that?" She asked defiantly.

"Positive."

"I think I could weasel my way out of that."

"I doubt it, you're in pretty deep." She chuckled at my statement and batted her eyelashes at me, leaning in towards my lips. My stomach clenched as I nearly bent to her will, wanting so badly to taste her again. But I dragged myself towards the front of the truck. "Oh no, you aren't getting off that easy."

She chuckled and lifted off of the truck, slipping into the front seat. I groaned inwardly, knowing I couldn't resist touching her while she was that close to me.

"Where are we going?" Her musky voice rang in my ears, sounding sultrier than typically because I wasn't allowed to touch her.

"I have no idea," I admitted. "Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere is fine if I'm with you," she charmed. I smirked and gazed at her dubiously.

"Lay it on thick, why don't you?" I joked. Claire smiled wistfully and leaned across the center console of the car.

"Forgive me yet?" She inquired.

"Nope."

"It's only a matter of time."

"You sound awfully confident."

"I just know you," she explained, shrugging sweetly, "that's all." She wrinkled her nose in flirtation and settled back into her seat. The love in my heart swelled and warmed in me, reaching down and comforting my core with its sincerity.

I knew exactly where I was going to take her.

"Where are we?" She said as she climbed over the underbrush next to me.

"Somewhere special."

"How special?" I laughed and shook my head.

"Real special."

I lifted her onto the boulder in front of me and steadied her legs before pulling myself up. The dull lights of La Push and Forks pulsed in the foggy darkness of the Washington night. The sky wasn't clear but it wasn't raining either. The moon's face was partially exposed, allowing its light to create shadows across Claire's perfect face.

"Wow," she uttered mutely.

"Special, right?" I proposed, she giggled and nodded. Her clothes rustled softly as she adjusted to lean against me. Her cool skin felt like satin as it floated over mine.

"How did you know about this place?"

"I used to come here with Jacob and Embry a lot," I told her.

"To do what?"

"Just talk usually." I let my fingers trail down the side of her arm, spreading my hand over hers.

"How does…he feel about Stormy?" She wondered, knowing that I would understand her hint.

"Well he didn't…"

"Imprint?" She supplied. The disappointment was still fresh in my chest and the thick ache of it echoing in my voice.

"Right," I responded. The muscles in the sides of her stomach tightened between my arms as she hiked herself up onto my lap.

"Well that's okay," she replied calmly.

"I know, I just want him to find someone." I paused and corrected my statement. "The right someone."

"Well not everyone imprints, right?"

"We don't know really…" I drew my bottom lip through my teeth. "But I mean four of us have."

"But not all."

"No, not all," I agreed.

"Maybe not everyone does," she reasoned.

"You could be right," I surrendered, wishing deep down that if not everyone imprinted that Jacob found the equivalent of such, "I guess not everyone is as lucky as I am."

Claire spun in my arms and searched my eyes with hers, seemingly uncovering the secrets that hid in the beams of my irises. The soft freckles upon the bridge of her nose were few, but noticeable from this close up. They formed a small cluster, like specks of chocolate dust on her cinnamon skin.

"I love you, Quil," she whispered. My heartbeat fled from its typical pace, jumping excitedly at the words.

"I love you more," I swore. Sometimes I wanted to tell her how much I cared, but I didn't want to scare her away. Her hair swished as she shook her head, no.

"I don't think so," she clarified.

"I know so."

Her velvety lips pushed onto mine, lighting a fire in me. They gently moved on mine, coaxing them open. My breath escaped me as her tongue smoothly sailed over my lips. My arms twined around her middle and drew her closer up to me, harder against me.

Sam's voice was thundering behind my ears, but the ecstasy drowned out the sound. She put pressure with her hips against mine, forcing a gasp from my lips. The heat in me flared at the feeling. Her hands knotted into the hair at the back of my neck, enticing me to get even closer to her.

Her hips tensed over mine, making the burst of warmth even worse than before. Sam's demands grew so fierce that a flash of lightning cracked open my vision, blinding me behind my lids. I fell back onto my elbows and shoved my hands into my temples, cursing silently.

"You okay?" She asked, breathless. I couldn't listen to her talk like that; the need in her voice nearly drove me to reattach myself with her.

"Yeah," I promised. "I think it's my cue to get you home."

She sighed and her shoulders drooped. I felt the action mirrored in my own mood. I wanted nothing more than to stay up here with her for the rest of the night, making mistakes that gave me sickening migraines. But I picked her up and threw her playfully over my shoulder.

"I can walk!" She claimed.

"I'll get us there faster."

She muttered something sarcastic under her breath but relaxed against me, making me smile.

"I trust you not to let me fall," she warned me.

"I would never."

"Not true," she complained. My eyebrows closed the space between them as I tried to remember a time when I had ever let Claire fall, none came to mind. "You let me fall hard."

"When?" I challenged.

"I'm in love, aren't I?"

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_Author's note- I've heard that the greatest antibiotics for writer's block are reviews :). Care to help me get well? ha. I hope you liked the chapter! Leave all your wonderful thoughts with Perry Winkle below, he's relatively reliable.  
_


	25. Chapter 25

_Author's note- Sorry for extending the promised deadline. Reagan's piece needed a little tweaking ;) ENJOY!_

_Disclaimer. _

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"Why do I have to take these damn tests anyways?"I complained. My eyes rolled up to the ceiling as I flopped back onto my floor. My rug was littered with tons of SAT 'vocab hit parade' cards and ACT 'science reasoning' strategy lists.

"I wish I had an answer for you, Claire." Quil picked up the cards I'd thrown up into the air and stacked them back together.

"This is the worst way to spend a Saturday!" I yelled. I threw a pillow at my snowy window and grimaced as the flakes continued to collide with the pane.

"It's snowing outside anyways." Quil attempted to comfort me.

"I like the snow," I whined. He snorted.

"No, you don't."

"I do when you're in it with me," I tried to entice him; letting one half of my mouth pull into a smirk.

"Nice try."

"This sucks!" I reiterated loudly. I blew out my breath and collapsed onto the mountain of pillows that I had made into my concentration nook. Which was helping me do anything but concentrate.

Christmas was only four days away and I wasn't _frolicking _in the snow like everyone else, I was stuck indoors with Quil. Which typically I wouldn't even dream of complaining about if I got to do things my way, but I was stuck studying for my reasoning tests that were a month away…which made my toes curl in disgust.

"You are such a complainer today."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"And sarcastic, too?" He let his eyes widen satirically as he whistled lowly.

"I bet you didn't even take these stupid tests," I snapped. He laughed at me.

"You're right, I didn't."

I chuckled out my air painfully, squeezing my eyes shut in despair.

"That's not fair!" I moaned. He scooped me out of the cocoon of pillows and rested me in his arms, just the place I wanted to be.

"Well you could be changing into a giant hairy monster right and left instead," he quipped, "that way you'd get to miss the tests." He finished bitterly. There was a whimper of sadness in me as those words floated into my ears.

"You aren't a monster, Quil."

He smiled small and bent down to me, nuzzling his nose into my neck. His hot breath spread over my skin, making it tingle.

"That's what you think," he teased, lightening up again. "Now—come on, one more, _prodigal_."

"I swear on my life that if I hear one more vocabulary word I will stab my eardrums out."

"That's quite a threat considering you knew the definition fourteen minutes ago."

"I know it now…" I brooded. "I just don't wanna…" I purposely drew out the shrill word.

"Claire," he said sternly.

"Prodigal, adjective: extravagantly or needlessly wasteful." I sighed dramatically and unhinged my body over his lap, flailing onto the floor.

"See?" He asked, pecking my lips, "it's not so hard."

"I think my ears are bleeding."

"I think you need some cheering up." He crawled over my sprawled form and growled sexily as he leaned towards my lips.

"This is so much better," I claimed quietly. He snickered with hisses of breath as his lips neared my own.

_Ding._

The doorbell's high pitched call sounded through the room. We both froze.

"Better get that," Quil mentioned, rising up from the floor.

"No!" I called, clawing at his ankle as he walked out of the room. He laughed at me and put me on my feet, dragging me towards the front door. He rolled his eyes at me and pressed his hot lips to my forehead before throwing open the door.

"Stormy?" I said. Her grey eyes were eerie as they glinted from within a ring of snow-flake filled lashes.

"Hi," she greeted me calmly, eyeing Quil and I's positioning. "Sorry if I intruded," she teased, flashing a mocking smile. We both laughed and invited her in.

"Oh, no, no," she insisted, "I can't stay long. Chance told me you were studying for your ACT and SAT though and so I thought I'd bring these for you." She exposed a pile of prep books for the tests.

"Really?" My cheeks tightened as I smiled, gratefulness plucking my face into a happy expression. "Thank you so much!" I threw my arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. Her multicolored Billabong hoodie was a little damp from the snow.

"That was really nice," Quil complimented, taking the books from Stormy's hands.

"Oh it's really no problem. I got them last year to help me and don't need them anymore, obviously." She hugged me tight once more and then skipped back through the doorway, claiming to be late for something.

"Stormy!" I called. Her head whipped around from the driver side of her sedan. "Where did you say you were going?"

"I don't think I said," she avoided the question, winking at me. "But I think you can guess." She bent down to slide into the seat but I just had to affirm the suspicion that was crawling in my belly.

"Stormy!"

"Yeah, Claire?"

"How are Jake and you?" They'd been hanging out a lot lately, ever since the bowling night. They seemed to fit. She was quirky and sarcastic, but still sweet. He was quiet and pensive, but romantic on the inside.

"Awesome." She nodded and beamed, finally sliding into the seat and zooming off to wrap herself into the warmth of a different werewolf.

I squealed and jumped up and down, overtly happy for them both.

"Excited, Claire?" Quil said, amused by my reaction.

"They are so cute!" My feet kept hopping around. "I'm so happy for Jacob!"

"Yeah, Stormy's cool," he agreed, walking into the kitchen. He grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and heated up some milk, dumping in spoonfuls of chocolate afterwards.

"Thanks," I whispered, kissing his cheek for a long second as he handed me the steaming liquid and snuggled next to me on the couch. "I love hot chocolate on snowy days."

The fire Quil had built crackled in the fireplace, snapping as the logs glowed.

"So where are you thinking of looking for college?"

I knew this question had been coming. I knew the time to look was coming up. I was really young for my grade, having skipped third. But this whole college thing just snuck up on me. I didn't even know if I wanted to go to college, not if Quil couldn't come with me.

"I'm not sure, but I liked Gonzaga, Seattle Pacific, and WashU when I toured with Chance," I covered my hesitation in what I hoped to be a smooth manner.

"I'm glad you've thought about it."

I heard the twinge of sadness that rolled underneath his tone. I knew I was sneaking into hot water here, but being cautious never was my thing anyhow.

"Well, I'm not sure that I'll go to college."

His eyes widened as his posture went rigid. Definitely hot water.

"What do you mean you won't go to college," he asked indignantly. My heart stung from his words alone, but the tone and expression lashed against its already sore walls again. College meant dorms, which meant moving away, which meant distance. If he was mad about me _not _going…did he want all of those things to happen?

"Quil," I mumbled quietly, "do you want me to go away?"

He sighed loudly and his mug clicked loudly on the coffee table as he set it down. He fit me into his side and blew out his breath into the crown of my head, making me shiver.

"Claire, if I could keep you next to me forever than I would." I sniffed a little bit, rubbing my watery eyes. "It's just—you're so smart. I never could have even hoped for grades like yours in school and…for you to say that you might not consider the opportunities that are available to you…it just frustrates me."

"I just don't want to leave," I answered honestly. He closed his arms around me and stuffed me into the hollow of his chest.

"I just want the best of everything for you, Claire," he replied, his lips against my shoulder.

"I know," I murmured against the skin of his arm. His breath fanned over my neck as he slowly closed his lips over the sensitive spot underneath my jaw. I felt the blood in my veins rush in response. He detached from me and kissed my hand as he stood up.

"I have a patrol to take with Jared and Sam but I'll be back tonight."

I huffed and sank further into the couch, punching out my bottom lip.

"Your face could get stuck like that you know," he commented warily. I smiled.

"Are you saying that you don't like this expression on me?" I bantered. "I think I might just make it permanent."

"You can do whatever you want to that face and I'll still love it," he promised, winking at me as he stepped out of the house.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I felt were a pair of small hands shaking me awake.

"Claire?"

"What." I didn't open my eyes and burrowed deeper into the couch. The girl laughed at me.

"Oh, come on." She shook my shoulders. "Get up! I have to tell you something!" I popped one eye open to Reagan's flushed face.

"Hey, Reag," I whispered sleepily. My hand closed over my mouth as a yawn stretched over my lips. She bounded onto the couch next to me and pulled me into a sitting position. Her brown hair was in a messy bun, her lips looking swollen, and her eyes fevered.

"How long have you been asleep?" She asked, glancing to the clock.

"Maybe an hour," I answered, scratching the back of my neck. She nodded and the smile that had been glued to her face since she'd gotten here didn't fade as she flipped on the television.

"_Glitter, you still have a shot at love, would you like to take it?" _Tila Tequila purred on her reality show. The weepy showgirl-type blonde blubbered a yes and wrapped her arms around Tila.

"I hate this show." Reagan wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"How can you hate this show?" I defended, "it's great!"

"It's stupid, look what they're tricking people into watching," she continued.

"It's the ultimate embodiment of human bestiality," I told her, snickering. She shook her head and settled into the cushions next to me. "Wait, Reag, didn't you say you had something to tell me?"

Her grin expanded as a red blush filled her face. "Yeah."

"Well?"

"I don't know how to start," she admitted, tugging her knees into her chest and tying her arms around them.

"What's it about?"

"It's about Paul," she responded quietly. Her round, blue eyes snuck a glance up to mine. I raised my eyebrows in question. "We…well, um—you know…it just…it kinda went like…" she stammered.

I felt my eyes nearly bug out of my head.

"Wait!" I screamed, my nerves tingling. "You didn't…" I insinuated.

Her cheeks bloomed into a red color as she covered her face in her hands, "yeah." She giggled.

I was happy for her…and yet kind of angry at the same time. Granted, Reagan was a year and a half older than me, but I'd had Quil for nearly fourteen years and she'd only had Paul for about six or seven months. I hated boundaries, I hated Sam, and I hated my age all at once.

The irritation settled as wobbling slivers in my stomach.

"So?" I faked the enthusiasm I knew I was supposed to feel. She couldn't keep the blood from rushing through her face and couldn't get out a word, "what was it like?" I provoked.

"Hot." She didn't flush this time. "Really hot."

I uncomfortably shifted in my already tucked position.

"No!" She corrected. "Not like that…it was just…hot like in temperature. I think I fainted once."

"Oh."

"I never expected things to get this far." She brushed a scrap of curly hair off of her cheek. "I didn't think I'd fall as hard as I have."

"You love him, huh?" I clarified. Her misty eyes found mine and she nodded, biting her bottom lip.

"I really do."

"He's a great guy," I swore.

"So…you and Quil?" She led.

"Oh no!" I promised, feeling the heat in my face.

"You're really young." She shrugged. _Am not! _My mind said. "But I was just wondering."

"Yeah…no…" I dragged.

"Just a tip." She smirked. "Make sure the air conditioning's working."

I felt the entire upper half of my body glow with embarrassment. I worked on keeping the sweat from beading on my upper lip. She pecked my cheek and stood up, turning towards the door.

"I have to get home…but I needed to tell someone," she confided, grinning.

"I'm glad you told me," I said honestly.

"I just didn't think Chance would—understand…you know?"

"Yeah, I get it."

She reached for the door and swung it open.

"Oh, and Claire?"

"Yeah."

"You might wanna go slowly at first…whenever it happens, ya know?" She paused and giggled. "They're bigger than big…all over." After that finale she slammed the door.

I groaned and drowned my hot face in the blanket in front of me; the itching for the experience was prickling underneath my skin. The discomfort from that _entire _conversation was boiling still in my stomach, her words still fresh in my head.

"Hey pretty girl," Quil said, bouncing onto the couch. I couldn't remove my face from the cover. "Sam let me off an hour early!"

"Hi." My voice was muffled by the cottony bundle.

"Are you going to look at me?" He laughed, tugging at the blanket. _Not until I can get the 'bigger than big' image out of my head._

He grabbed the cover away to witness my blushing face. I forced a stale smile.

"Were you hot in there? Your face is red."

Hot. _Hot. Really Hot._

This was impossible.

"Yeah…I was."

Tila winked from the screen as the show promised to return with a new episode full of writhing sexual drama in a week.

"I love that show!"Quil claimed, folding his arms behind his head as he reclined into the couch. My eyes scampered to a place that I'd never really looked before, but that was easy to wonder about now.

_Bigger than big…all over._

"Me too." I gulped.

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_Author's note- Leave me a loving review, readers!! :) they make me and my accomplice Perry extremely happy.  
_


	26. Chapter 26

_Author's note- And here's a wonderfully long chapter! And another gift...pictures! Of what the characters look like to me anyways! They're on my profile so check them out!  
_

_Disclaimer. _

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The wind whipped momentarily, causing me to shy into the hot body that was holding me there.

"I don't think its bonfire weather, Quil," I complained, shaking my sleeve over my cold hand and pressing it up to protect my face.

"You really think I'm going to let you get cold?" he joked. I groaned and stuffed myself impossibly closer to the heated stone of his side. Regardless of the pitfalls I was excited about going to the bonfire. It was actually a really cute thing. Stormy's eighteenth birthday had rolled around and Jacob couldn't resist throwing her a big party.

We traipsed towards the billowing orange flames that we saw in the distance and I stole a glance at the sea. It didn't look like the calm waters that I liked to climb in over the summer; it looked ominous, dark, and freezing. A shiver crawled up my spine, pooling and icing over at the base of my skull. The end of January usually brought the harshest storms, I just hoped tonight wouldn't be one of them.

"You never told me how your SAT went today." Quil tried to shove the conversation into motion.

"That's probably because if I don't ever have to speak a word about the SAT ever again I could die a happy person."

"That bad, huh?"

I shrugged tightly, my shoulders' movements restrained by his arms.

"No— I mean the material was fine. I just don't think I'll ever be able to sit still in a room for six hours while filling tediously small bubbles with number two pencil graphite _ever_ again." He laughed at me and continued to half-carry me through the stiff, cold sand. I heard the shrill shriek before I saw her. My smile had already warmed up when she ran up to me, having to rustle around Quil's large arm to wrap her own around me.

"Claire!" Reagan crowed in delight.

"Hi, Reag!" I saw Chance walk up to her shoulder, a stick full of burnt marshmallows in her hand.

"Hey, squirt!" She chuckled.

"Hey, sis," I said, watching her lick her fingers.

"How'd the test go?" She asked.

"I think I did well," I murmured as we began to proceed towards the crowd once again. "But let's just say I won't be retaking it, regardless of my score."

"I hate that you're smarter than me," she groaned. I laughed. She'd taken the test three times to wind up with her goal score.

"I know," I responded, smirking even though I knew she couldn't see me. I could feel Quil's laughs vibrating through his ribs as he successfully stifled the sounds. Chance was prettier than me, taller than me, more social than me, and more athletic than me. I deserved at least a little reprieve! And so I took my pride and glowed with its satisfying sting.

The group wasn't too large, forty people tops. But I picked out the towering space heaters in seconds, not that I should have been especially proud…they weren't that good at blending in. For the first time I saw a couple extra heads. I counted and re-counted, knowing that Sam, Leah, and Jared wouldn't be here. I should have counted four heads: Paul, Jacob, Embry, and Seth…noting the fact that Quil was right beside me. But there were two more…_one...two...three…four…__**five…six.**_

I tugged on Quil's sleeve and waited impatiently as he shifted his dark eyes down to mine. I could barely see the onyx orbs through the darkness and fleeting smoke.

"Who are _they_?" I pointed through the crowd, motioning towards the two tall ones that I didn't know. Their faces were distant and held in unyielding masks. I saw that look on Jacob sometimes. It usually meant he was thinking of Bella.

Quil groaned in what I'm sure he assumed was a silent exclamation. "Why are they here?" he muttered. I didn't think I was supposed to hear that, so I didn't respond to it.

"Quil?" I pressed, ignoring his earlier comment. He sighed loudly.

"Um—that one's Collin." He pointed to the smaller one. "That one's Brady."

"And they're…"

"Yeah."

"So, why haven't I ever seen them?"

"They…ugh…" he grunted and I could practically hear the words that he strangled back, "they got in some trouble a while ago."

"Kay…"

"I'll tell you the whole story later."

I frowned up at him and could feel the lines in my forehead crease. He mimicked my expression and then burst out laughing, tapping the tip of my nose lightly.

"I promise," he reaffirmed.

"Fine."

He tugged me through the crowd, my puffy parka brushing against other puffy parkas. I kept my face down, squinting my eyes against the cold wind that continued to bite at my cheeks. I could tell when we'd reached the cluster of werewolves because my arms began rubbing against things much bigger and warmer than me.

I gasped throatily as a pair of huge hands wrenched me from my comfortable position in Quil's side.

"Pipsqueek!" Seth cooed, scratching my head with his knuckle. "I've missed you so!"

"Ugh," I grumbled, "Seth, you smell like smoke!" He laughed and practically tossed me back to Quil, as if I were no bigger than a football.

"Someone had to get the bonfire roarin'," he explained. Embry came at me next, a pretty little thing tucked in his arms.

"Quil, who is that?" I whispered quickly.

"Beat's me," he murmured hurriedly. Embry only approached close enough to punch me in the shoulder.

"Hey, C, I was thinking you and I may need to go shopping again sometime soon."

I felt all of the color drain out of my face. I growled lowly and grimaced at him as he stalked off with the poor girl, a triumphant and humored look on his face. Quil was gazing quizzically down at me, his eyes silently requesting explanation. I felt my blush poke at the skin on my face.

_Too embarrassing to tell him now_, I decided. I rolled my eyes and twirled my finger next to my cranium, signaling that I thought Embry was just a little bit _loco._ Which was, _and is_, completely and totally true.

Stormy surfaced from somewhere amongst the ring, a beautiful, dark man attached to her. Her white high-top converse hugged the bottoms of her black skinny jeans, a tight jacket over her shoulders, the colorful hood thrown over her head. She ambled towards me, stealing looks up at Jacob.

"Claire, I'm so glad you came!" She wrapped her tiny arms around my neck. I smiled and hugged her back, pushing a box covered in shiny, polka dot paper at her. "Oh, you didn't have to get me anything!" Her huge, rainy eyes were filled with compassion as she stared intently into mine.

"Well, I did!" I pushed the box towards her torso, giggling as her smile widened excitedly. "So, open it!" The paper crackled as she pulled the folds apart. Jacob rested his head on hers, watching from a bird's eye view. She carefully pulled the leather-bound sketch book with shaky hands. Her cloudy eyes got big with wonder as she stroked the protective, soft covers with tender fingers, flipping through the thick pages of drawing paper.

"So...you think I'm good at art, then?" Stormy questioned, her eyebrow arched in wonder. "No, I'm kidding. But really, Claire…" she couldn't seem to find words. I grinned. I'd searched and searched for the ideal gift for her! And then it just popped up at what I swore was going to be my last store. "It's perfect. Thank you so much."

"You're more than welcome." I grabbed the used wrapping paper from her, scrunching it into a ball. "I'm just so glad you like it!" She grasped the book to her chest and tilted her face up towards Jake's. He pecked her gently with upside down lips.

"Do you want to go get a couple hot dogs with me?" She invited, her light hearted nature flitting around in her eyes. "I'm starving!"

"Sure," I answered, turning towards Quil. I leaned up on my tip toes and put my lips on his. "_Not that we don't have enough around us already,_" I whispered against his mouth. He snickered loudly and softly shoved me towards the birthday girl.

"This really meant a lot, Claire." She held up the bound book. I smiled kindly at her and noticed the bright silver streaks that literally wove through her eyes for the first time.

"Happy birthday!" I said.

"It really is."

"How's Jacob?" We continued walking towards the fire, eyeing the smaller pit where people were roasting various food items.

"Better than ever." Her eyelashes fluttered as she mentioned him. "He's got quite the temper sometimes, though," she relented. I stiffened, _did she know?_ "But I've always had a thing for feisty ones," she joked. I relaxed a little bit.

"He seems to really like you." I couldn't help the happiness that infiltrated my limbs as I thought of Jacob's own contentment. He didn't seem to think about Bella as much anymore.

"Yeah, well…" her fingers knotted around each other. "I'm crazy about him." I let my eyes graze over her slight form, her deeply chestnut hair, and those round eyes. Cherry, swollen lips curled into a smile as she thought of him, her pale beyond pale cheeks stretching to make room for the expression. She looked exactly like…Bella. Or at least looked exactly like Quil had described her to me once…

Maybe Jake was so happy because with her he got to think about Bella _all of the time_. But that couldn't be wrong…if it made Jake happy, _right?_ I wondered idly if she knew. And if it was important whether or not she did.

"How many do you want?" Stormy's question interrupted my thoughts. I blinked a couple of times and saw my imagined picture of Bella staring at me with two skewers in her hands.

"Oh—just one."

She handed me the wire with the meat suspended on the end. But weirdly enough, I couldn't concentrate on the fact that my stomach was grumbling hungrily. I was worried that maybe Jake didn't really like _Stormy _all that much…that maybe he was just happy to have pieces of his Bella back. It made me sad to think of it. A thick worry hung in my stomach, noting the entranced and distant look in Stormy's eyes. And perhaps even worse I knew that the cause of my worry was also the cause of her starry-eyed daze.

Our hotdogs had been charred to perfection and so we sat them into the buns. But I couldn't really taste mine as my teeth gnawed on it. We both stood up and brushed the crumbs off of our coats.

"Ready to get back to the boys?" She asked. My heart ached a little bit at the desperate excitement just to be back next to him. I shook my head and tried to clear my doubts of Jacob out of it. He was a good guy. It wasn't right to wonder about his motives this way. He deserved happiness one way or another.

I looked back to the shiny eyes and nodded. She grinned and forced her way through the crowd, smiling and winking at people as they wished her happy birthday. Jacob's face lit up as he saw her near and I immediately regretted my doubts of his motives. Whether or not Bella was involved…Stormy made him happy. And that could never be considered a bad thing.

I waited for the two hot arms that would find me soon enough to scoop me up. But, weirdly enough, they didn't come along. Collin and Brady were still keeping to themselves, although in the group of the boys, they were also sort of separated, turned away from the others. I walked up towards them and tapped lightly on the taller one's arm, Brady, I thought.

He spun warily on his heel and almost…_glared_…at me.

"H—ha—have you…seen Quil?" I squeaked, not expecting such a touchy greeting. His eyebrows formed a stoic 'v' as he continued staring condescendingly at me. He didn't really answer me in words; he just pointed back towards the left and emitted something that sounded like a growl from his throat.

I spun on my heel, feeling my face squish into a displeased expression. _That was rude._

But my irritation was quickly stifled by a different emotion. A sour mix of anger and hurt burst through my veins, firing beneath my skin. I didn't know it very well, but envy had always been there, just not accustomed to showing her acidic self.

A girl was standing in front of Quil, whose back was the only part of him I could see. She had to be from Forks because I most certainly had never seen her around here before. The jealousy curdled in my veins as her hand flirtatiously grazed his wrist. She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder as he said something, I could see his head swiveling from side to side, most likely looking for me.

A victorious smile ran over my lips, a small bud of delight in the seething and fluid envy that was running through me as she batted her lashes at him. I quickly propelled myself towards the pair, swinging my greedy arms around Quil's neck and yanking his lips onto mine as soon as I could reach them. I could feel his chest contract at the unexpected hello, but he accepted it none the less, picking me up and crushing me into his chest.

I felt his lips smile against mine.

"I was wondering where you were." His teeth grazed my lips as he spoke, my skin shuddered in elation at the knowledge that _she _was watching.

"Close as always." I couldn't help but stifle a laugh as I imagined _her _face. He lowered me back down to the ground, keeping his arm tightly around me. The blonde had a tightened look to her eyes, restraining a grimace, I was sure. I smile tauntingly and snuggled against Quil's side. "I'm Claire, by the way."

Her eyes narrowed minimally as Quil shifted apologetically.

"Oh, right, sorry!" He grinned down at me and winked, rolling his eyes towards the girl. "This is my girlfriend Claire." Her entire expression went taut as she literally cringed at the word.

"Nice to meet you." Her voice was slithery and false. I laughed to myself, reveling in my victory. "I'd better get going," she admitted, eyeing me as she waved good-bye to Quil, "see you soon."

He rolled his eyes and picked me back up.

"That was weird," he said. I nodded and shrugged, hoping that he hadn't noticed the ugly, green monster that had jumped up my throat. "I've never seen you jealous."

I groaned inwardly. He _had _noticed.

"I wasn't!" I defended readily. He eyed me suspiciously, knowing I was a terrible liar.

"Sure, Claire."

"No. Really!" The response came too quickly and at too high of a pitch.

"Good cover," he teased. I frowned as he laughed at me, his bass chuckle sending tremors through my chest. "Aw, C, lighten up. I've never had eyes for anyone else."

I smiled small and saw the chocolate in his eyes melt.

"Me neither." I kissed him lightly again.

"I've gotten lots of kisses tonight," he divulged, his voice warm.

"Does that bother you, Quil?" I asked in a mock-worried tone. He rolled his eyes. "Because I could most certainly find a solution to that." I pulled my fingers across the middle of my lips like a zipper and threw away the imaginary key, holding his face away from my own.

"That's not what I meant!" he insisted. His lips puckered and he kept darting towards mine, not caring when he missed and covered my cheeks and neck in kisses. The laughs reverberated deep into my core, showering the love that was already growing there. "_Claire_," he whined.

I chuckled and nuzzled into his neck.

"Don't worry, Quil. I don't think I could resist kissing you for too long even if you _did _want me to." And with that I planted my lips against his for a few long seconds, feeling him relax beneath me.

"Really?" he provoked playfully. I rolled my eyes. "Me either."

"Never?" I challenged.

"Ever," he answered.

* * *

_Author's note- Now leave a nice little note for me...and go see the pictures! WOO! :) PM me with your thoughts on the pic choices. p.s. i need a little help finding a Reagan and a Stormy! Anyone who has suggestions...they'd be greatly appreciated!  
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	27. Chapter 27

_Author's note- Wow...3390 words...i'm impressed with myself! ha. An extra-long chapter for my wonderful reviewers. Keep it up guys, you keep me going :). Thanks for everything._

_Thanks to Amelia Bedelia for a plot suggestion that spurred the later half of the chapter. ;)_

_Disclaimer._

* * *

"I don't want to!" I yelled, shoving the brushes and electrical devices away from my face.

"Now, Claire, let's approach this from a logical angle," Stormy rationalized, resting the blow drier in her hand against the hip of her right leg, "how many Snow Ball dances do you get to go to?"

"Too many," I promised her, attempting to wriggle off of the toilet seat where she had planted me, insisting on beautifying me for the winter dance at school.

"Well, aren't you peachy," she quipped, pulling out a couple serums and rubbing them through my hair.

"No!" I wailed, leaning away from her nimble fingers. She finished and pulled away, rinsing her slimy fingers in the sink. "You are the pushiest person in the entire world."

"What a silly thing to say." She shook her head. "There is _no _way that you have met everyone in the entire world."She chuckled highly as I stared at her in disbelief.

"But, Storms, I just don't want to go!" I tried to make my point. She came towards me with a straightener, flattening large sections of my hair between the hot plates. The ironed sections fell loosely down to my face after being pressed, still warm against my skin. "I don't think you understand," I insisted, my breathing becoming uneven. Stormy backed away for one second and looked me straight in the face.

"Claire, what is it that I am not understanding?"

"I—I…well you see, I –"

She raised her slanted eyebrows at me, letting a bent smile crawl over her full lips.

"I can't make up an excuse that fast," I snapped, folding my arms across my chest.

"Look, Claire, I get it, dances aren't that fun when your boyfriend can't go with you." She seemed to understand, her grey eyes shadowed in the side lighting of the bathroom. "But you only get to go to a couple high school dances and I know for a fact that Quil insists that you go to this one with me."

This alliance, Jacob and Stormy aligning with Quil against me, was going to be hard to fight.

"So, could you please just pretend to want to go?" She pouted her lips and let her eyes droop pleadingly, "for me?"

I sighed, defeated. "Why are you doing all of this, Stormy?" I asked. She widened her eyes and looked up to the ceiling in thought.

"Because you're too hopeless to do it for yourself." She winked and arranged my hair back behind my shoulders, brushing the strays off of my face. She was right, of course. I never would have gone on my own accord.

She dumped make up out of a zippered bag that she'd brought with her. She thickened my eyelashes with a swipe of mascara and dusted some glitter on the curves of my eyelids. I couldn't tell you what she put on my skin to make it look dewy and flawless, but I made a memo to ask her about it later. Lastly she smeared some thick raspberry lip balm over my smile.

"Nice work," I complimented, glimpsing myself in the mirror. "I look half-decent."

"Fully decent, I would say." She tucked the sticks and powders away, grabbing a black fabric from her bag. "Now we just have to get you dressed." A teeny tiny dress slunk from her fingers. The silky black cut was tastefully low, a pair of thin straps holding it up. The body of the garment was loose, coming to a tight ring at the bottom. _Bottom_ meaning where the dress would finally meet my mid-thigh, that is.

"Oh no," I warned, climbing up from my seat and backing into the corner. "I'm not wearing that."

"Aw, Claire, don't be difficult," Stormy teased, her eyes bright with kind humor.

"It's not gonna be difficult to rip that thing in half once you get it close to me!"

"Chance!" Stormy called into the hall. _Crap._

My sister appeared in the doorway, her svelte curves outlined in a crimson number that would have had monks swooning. She glanced at the dress in Stormy's hands and raised a suggestive eyebrow at me.

"We'll give you four seconds to get yourself into it, Claire," Chance proclaimed as Stormy tossed me the scandalous thing.

"Chance, no!"

"Claire, yes!"

"Why are you making me do this?!" I cried, praying to God that the dress would catch fire and burn away.

"You are being melodramatic," Chance commented, picking up the dress and unzipping the side of it. "You'll look great in this!"

I changed my mind. I wouldn't care if I burnt up instead.

"_That_," I pointed out, "is nothing more than a shirt of expensive fabric! There is nothing _dress_ about it."

"You're making this hard on yourself," my sister exclaimed, stuffing the dress over my head and dethroning me of my t-shirt in less time than I thought possible.

* * *

The gym wasn't even recognizable with the large curtains of white gauze that hung from the walls, reflecting the beaming lights of the DJ booth back onto the floor.

"Wow."

"Told you it wouldn't be so bad." Stormy bumped me with her hip, her eyes glinting with spritely satisfaction. Reagan appeared, her lithe, slight body covered by a satin, blue dress.

"I found us a table, guys," she mentioned, nodding over towards the southern wall.

I smiled and followed her towards a table in the back. A warm hand closed over my shoulder.

"You look beautiful," he hummed in my ear. I felt my entire face heat up as I turned back towards Casey.

"Erm—thanks," I muttered ineloquently. His grin widened at my awkwardness and he looked around the gym.

"Any reason to fear a couple of broken bones tonight?" He asked, scanning the crowd for the boy who had promised to break more than that.

"Not tonight," I said quietly. Casey's eyes danced in the beams of artificial light as he looked to Chance, Reagan, and Stormy.

"You wouldn't mind if I stole her for a dance, girls, would you?"

"Be my guest," Chance voiced. I gulped, blushing even more fiercely than before.

"Don't forget to bring her back," Reagan chimed as I stepped away from my seat.

I didn't know if I'd be able to have Casey's hand on me…and keep the shakes out of my limbs. His hand was tight around mine, keeping the quakes to a minimum as we walked towards the dance floor. He wrapped an arm around the small of my back and drew me towards him, his other hand holding mine. He was gentle, careful in his movements.

"Claire, you look unbelievable." His lips accidentally grazed my ear as he whispered in my hair and my body shivered in response.

"Thanks, Case." My hands ceased trembling, that easy peace of heart that Casey always brought with him, settling in my veins. "You look really nice, too." No matter how wrong my head seemed to think it was, my body liked Casey's touch.

It was different from Quil's. Like comparing a raging wildfire to a subdued rise of heat, subdued like the feeling of the ground after a day of caress from the sun's fiery fingers.

The notes of the song played through the air, a slow song that I knew how to play on the guitar. A low humming filled my right ear as Casey began to mumble the words beneath the music. My stomach fluttered at the comforting sound.

Our feet shuffled across the floor, mine restrained into some absurdly tall pair of heels. Even still, I only reached Casey's chin with my eyes. The song's final bars dwindled as another took its place. He backed away from me and smiled with his eyes, the green orbs brightening with the expression. He reached gingerly towards my cheek and softly pulled his thumb down to my chin. My heart boomed beneath my ribs as he leaned forward and let his lips cross over my cheek.

"I miss you," he mumbled. My heart jumped and my head pulled away from him.

"Thanks for the dance," I garbled. A mellifluous voice interrupted my own just as I was ready to speed back to the table where my friends were.

"You wouldn't mind if I cut in?" I looked up to the stranger who had spoken to Casey at my expense. I had never seen him before, but that didn't stop him from looking unbearably similar to someone else…someone I didn't quite remember. Casey's eyes narrowed as he shook his head, slowly turning away from me.

"Well aren't you popular tonight?" Chance joked as she swept past my shoulder, holding some boy's hand as he whisked her out towards the corner of the floor. The stranger's hands closed around my waist, I glanced up to him and saw that he was staring at Chance.

"Is that your sister?" He asked, his voice curious.

"Yeah, Chance," I murmured.

"Weird," he said to himself. I took the second to look up at him, his alabaster skin shone weirdly in the blinking lights from the front of the gym. His golden eyes flitted excitedly around the room, dark curls of hair falling over his forehead. My hands were cold against his gigantic shoulders, and I couldn't tell whether I was nervous or his skin was as cold as ice.

A young man, who had the same skin and eyes, approached us. His platinum blonde hair glinted in the streaks of moonlight that he stalked through.

"I think we need to get out of here, Emmett," the other one said. Emmett looked down to me and smiled, winking quickly. My heart rate unintentionally sped. There was something about him…something charming, but there was a darker something there as well…a dangerous something. My heart wasn't thundering simply out of allure, it sped out of fear.

"Wait a second, Jazz," he comforted. "She's here somewhere, I know it."

My pulse pounded in the bones of my wrists but I couldn't bring myself to push away from the huge man in front of me; I was frozen. Emmett glanced around the room, but his brow furrowed when he didn't find what he had been looking for.

"Get away from her." A growl came from behind me, a familiar one. I felt a breath that I hadn't known I was holding fly out of my lungs. Emmett smirked defiantly but dropped his hands. I backed into the hot, stone chest that I knew was behind me. Two protective arms wrapped around my ribs.

"Nice to see you, too, Jake," Emmett taunted, smiling widely. The other one came to his side, but the blonde's face was blank and reserved. I could feel Jacob shaking a little beneath me and I knew from his tone that he wasn't happy to see these two at all.

"Let's take this outside, at least," the blonde one muttered. Jacob grunted and grabbed me by the shoulders, steering me in front of him and blocking me from the other two. The cool night air shocked my skin, raising goosebumps on the surface. Three very irate looking werewolves stood outside the door, their expressions twisted into snarls. Quil rushed towards me and snatched me into his shoulders. I trembled against him, letting my heart beat regulate against the taut skin of his chest.

Sam and Paul flanked Jacob as the two strangers ambled towards an obnoxious, red jeep parked at the corner of the parking lot. We walked slowly behind them. Quil burrowed his face in my hair, stroking my back and cursing beneath his breath. I didn't know why he was so mad, but I knew that I had been right to be afraid.

"What are you doing here!" Paul spat, his eyes practically alight. I could tell his sideways glances back towards the gym were in worry for Reagan.

"I told you we shouldn't have come," the blonde one remarked darkly. Emmett glared at him.

"Shut it, Jasper," he rumbled.

"Why would you break the treaty?" Sam demanded, his voice authoritative. I shrunk back against Quil and felt my body wrack from the chilly wind as it passed over me. Quil draped his arms around me, becoming my coat.

Emmett rolled his eyes at Sam and leaned back against the vehicle. Jasper stood rigidly at his side, his nerves visibly piqued.

"He—…We..eh-hem, I," Jasper began, struggling to choose his words.

"We saw Bella in Forks and followed her here," Emmett commented dryly. I saw Jacob stiffen. _Bella. Jaob's Bella._

"Why would Bella be here?" Sam's voice was as harsh as the biting wind. "She left with your family." I noticed when Jacob flinched. If they were looking for her…that meant that this was the family that Jake had talked about, the _vampires_. The blood went cold under my skin.

"Bella's been…absent lately." Jasper shifted uncomfortably as the words passed his lips.

"What'd you do to her?" Jake growled, his towering form quaking.

"We didn't do anything, Scrappy," Emmett snapped, "so shut your muzzle."

"Don't press your luck, Cullen," Sam added, eyeing Paul's lunging position.

"Sam, we didn't mean to break the treaty," Jasper spoke calmly; "we're just trying to find our sister."

Jacob grunted in disgust.

"Get off our land before I rip you both to shreds," Sam commanded, pointing towards the east, away from the reservation. I felt my body shake at the words; Quil tightened his grip around me.

"We can't let them go!" Paul yelled, staring exasperatedly at Sam. "They aren't allowed to be here!"

"Bring it on, mutton chops!" Emmett barked, glowering at Paul. "It wouldn't be the first time I beat your furry ass down."

"You're right, they shouldn't be." Sam scowled. "But I wouldn't hesitate to break a treaty to search for Em or my kids either," he sighed. Paul's eyes went wide with fury. "And I know you'd do the same for Reagan." I saw Paul's shoulders relax as he withdrew. "So, step down."

Quil's hands closed over my shoulders as he folded me deeper into his chest. Emmett blew out his breath and folded him arms across his chest. Jasper pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and looked towards Jacob.

"Could you just tell us if you come into contact with her?" He pleaded, "or if she comes to see you?"

Jacob's eyes brightened momentarily but he quickly snuffed out the hope and nodded laboriously. The two Cullens jumped into the off-road beast and Emmett pressed the gas, speeding onto the main road.

The group stalked rigidly back towards the gym. Stormy, in her flowing, lilac dress jogged out of the double doors, her eyes full of questions.

"What's going on?" She wondered, placing her hand on Jacob's bicep. He smiled weakly down at her.

"Just some unwanted visitors." His voice was tense.

The gears in my head clicked noisily in my ears as they went to work. Was it possible that Emmett and Jasper had seen Stormy and thought it was Bella? But, where was Bella? Had she really come back? Or was she maybe on her way here, having stalled in order to avoid any search parties her family sent out?

"We need to have a meeting with everyone," Sam interjected. "Let's get going." Quil set me on my feet and pressed his lips against my forehead.

"I'll be waiting for you when you get home," he promised.

"I'll hurry," I said. He smiled at me and then ran to catch up with the others. Stormy was waiting for me, her grey eyes brimming with a discreet emotion.

"Where were you earlier?" I asked her, remembering that Emmett hadn't seen Bella in the gym, who I was guessing was actually Stormy.

"I went to the bathroom with Reagan for awhile," she answered. "She ripped her dress but Chance had a sewing kit in her clutch, so I helped her stitch it up."

It had been convenient timing, no doubt. I didn't want to imagine what would have happened if Emmett and Jasper had confronted Stormy as Bella.

"You don't need to change the subject, Claire." Stormy's voice was cognizant. "I know about them, too."

"About who?" I tried to keep my voice steady. She laughed at me and grabbed my hand.

"About the wolves."

"So, he told you?"

"Yeah."

I nodded slowly, the pieces of a puzzle I had yet to discover coming together at an idled pace in my head, like they we're stuck in honey.

"Let's get you home," she invited. I grabbed my cell phone off of the table and nodded, following her out to the car.

* * *

"Hey, Claire," Quil greeted, waving to Stormy as she drove away. "Fun night?"

"No." I stumbled towards my bedroom, yanking the painful heels off of my feet. "You shouldn't have made them take me."

"Oh Claire," he comforted, twining his arms around my waist, "I just feel sometimes that you don't get to be as normal as everyone else because of me…"

"What if I don't want to be normal?" I provoked angrily, spinning in his arms.

"I just feel bad about it. I hate that you suffer for what I am." I pressed my lips against his moving ones in a heated sweep, keeping him from saying anything else. The heat spread through my chest as I suddenly became aware of every point of contact between the two of us.

"I don't call this suffering." My mouth curled into a smile as our kiss broke.

"I should have known you'd get into some kind of trouble tonight, looking like you do," Quil whispered as he let me escape from his grasp.

"It's your fault for making Stormy take me," I retorted, scanning my closet for something more comfortable. I reached for a pile of t-shirts when his hand closed over my wrist.

"Don't change," he begged. "You look…amazing."

I blushed and folded my arms across my chest. "I thought you said I looked like trouble."

"You do," he surrendered, drawing a line down the side of my neck with his finger. The trail it left burned. "But I think we need the danger in this relationship to be balanced out every once in a while."

"Are you saying that I'm not dangerous in general?" I taunted. Quil rolled his eyes playfully.

"Not to me."

"Jacob told Stormy about everything," I commented, "did you know that?" I analyzed his expression as it changed from playful to pissed.

"Yeah, Sam was upset with him." He pushed his hand through the thick waves of his hair. "We're all supposed to get clearance from the group before sharing it with outsiders."

"She seemed fine with it," I attempted to soothe the anger that seemed to be boiling beneath his words.

"It's…it's not that," he noted, huffing crossly, "we just think that he only told Stormy because she reminds him so much of—_her_."

"Bella?"

Quil nodded.

"Jacob's disregarding all of the rules, slipping into this thing he has with Stormy with no boundaries in mind…just like he's back with Bella."

"And that's…_bad_?" I wondered. He shook his head from side to side.

"It's just wrong. Our rules are the type that can't be broken."

* * *

_Author's note- Now with all of that lovely extra text, I would truly adore all those who took the time to leave me a review! :). Mr. Winkle seconds that.  
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	28. Chapter 28

_Author's note- Impossibly speedy update for an impossibly fluffy break from the tension :). _

_Happy Birthday **live it love it33**! Here's my gift to you, a Valentine's Day, QxC style._

_Disclaimer._

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"But, I don't like surprises," Claire pouted delectably from the passenger seat, fiddling with the bandana I'd secured over her eyes.

"Stop!" I told her, laughing. I grabbed her fidgeting hands in one of mine and held them to her lap. "It'll be more fun this way."

I wound through the familiar streets of town, heading towards the spot that she already knew about. It was just more fun this way.

"You used to tell me that you hated Valentine 's Day," she remarked, smirking in my direction.

I squeezed her hands and snorted. "Well you weren't old enough to _be _my valentine, which wouldn't make it a very fun holiday now, would it?"

She giggled softly and twisted around in her seat, blowing on the window. A foggy patch formed under her lips and she blindly traced a shape into the cloud. It was a heart.

"How does it look?" She asked.

"What? Your drawing?"

She nodded.

"It's cute."

"Where are we going?" She changed the subject quickly. I rolled my eyes dramatically, knowing she wouldn't be able to see my expression of sarcasm.

"Nowhere, C, we're actually just going to drive around with you blindfolded for the next four hours."

"Great," she said, bemused. "That's exactly how I wanted to spend the evening of my Valentine's Day."

I snickered to myself and steered the truck into a break in the bushes.

"We're here." I stuck my hand into my pocket and wrapped my hand around the small parcel inside; making sure it was still there.

"Finally," she groaned, hopping out of the truck and beginning to untie the knot at the back of her head.

"Don't take it off yet!"

"Ugh, Quil, why not?"

"Can't you just wait a little longer?" I begged her, tucking the thermos and flowers into one arm and picking her up in my other.

She snuggled into my side. "I guess so."

I couldn't help the butterflies that wrestled in my stomach and spread a grin onto my face. I hiked quickly up to the big rock and placed her up carefully, pulling myself behind her. I rested her in my lap and gently untied the knot.

"Oh." Her voice was soft. "I love it here." The lights of the town were dull tonight, the stars outshining them by hundreds of watts.

I smiled, "me too." I let my lips brush the side of her face and reveled in the heat that drew beneath the skin. I produced the bouquet of flowers from behind my back and handed her the thermos of hot chocolate that I'd made us. "Happy Valentine's Day."

She blinked a few times, allowing a sweet smile to grow on her mouth. "Thanks, Quil." She tilted her head and touched my arm with her lips from where she was situated in my lap. She inhaled the scent of the pink and white flowers deeply, "I think Jasmine is my favorite flower."

"I think I knew that," I teased, twirling a few pieces of her hair with my finger.

"I love you," she whispered. Rapture's wispy fingers spun through me, driving me to get closer to her.

"I love you, too." The words still made my hands shake, even though they couldn't come close to holding the magnitude of emotions that I felt. I grabbed the ring from my pocket and sucked in a deep breath of the humid air. "Hey, Claire?" My voice was trembling.

"Yeah?"

"Can I make you a promise?" My heart was beating loudly beneath my ribs. I blushed suddenly, hoping she couldn't hear it. She sat up, putting space between my body and hers. I immediately had to resist pulling her back towards me. But she simply resituated so that she could face me. Her eyes were open and gentle, the light flecks of gold within the brown reflecting the stars' shine.

"Of course," she murmured, her shapely lips bowing into a faint smile.

"I promise," my throat was coated with sincerity and nerves, making my voice coarse and low, "to never let anyone else sleep in my dreams." Her eyelashes sparkled as small drops of tears formed on them. She dipped her chin and began wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. I put my finger under her chin and lifted her face towards mine again. "And I promise to become whatever you want me to be, because your imagination is a lot freer than mine." I lifted my hand out of the pocket in my pants, twirling the silver ring around in my fingers. "I'm yours," I confessed, adding jokingly, "whether you want me or not." I slipped it onto the ring finger of her right hand and leaned forward, kissing the paths that the tears had made down her cheeks.

She glanced down to the band and smiled up at me. "A promise ring?" She wondered.

"Sorry, I'm not very creative with these things," I admitted. I twisted the ring around on her hand, feeling a sense of pride bud in me, knowing that the ring signified my place in her life.

"I love it," she said, her teeth gleaming in the low light as she studied the curvature of the piece. "What does it say?"

"_52606._" I ran my fingers over the numbers. "It may not mean much to you, but it was a big day in my life." Her eyes flickered up to mine, curiosity bouncing in her irises. "It was the day I imprinted on you." I pecked her softly on the tip of the nose. Her mouth formed a small 'o' as she looked back down to the band.

"I promise to wear it forever," she pledged, wrinkling her nose in delight.

"I'd like that."

"You never told me about Brady and Collin," she pointed out, smiling as I grimaced. I didn't like either of those two.

"Remember what I said about our rules?"

"Yeah, they're not to be broken."

"Well, they broke some rules," I said finitely. I leaned back onto the rock and felt her shift to incline against me. My skin burned wherever she was touching me, her touch lighting a different kind of fire than the one I knew. The familiar one was harsh and piercing as it shot through my nervous system. The kind that Claire lit in me was sensual and tender, a slither of heat through my veins.

Claire turned onto her stomach, scooting up on the boulder so that her chest was even with mine. I could feel the bones of her ribcage as they inflated with her lungs. Her breasts were pushed tightly against my chest, making my heart beat serrate. She laid her chin in folded hands against my sternum, smirking with a sense of smugness. "Okay, that was by far the worst story I have ever heard."

"I never promised to tell you the story," I retorted, sharing her infectiously playful grin.

"Yes, you did!" Her warm eyes went wide with irritation.

"I said that I would tell you what happened with them at a later time, aka now."

"But you didn't tell me what _happened_."

"Yes, I did. They broke some rules," I insisted, having as much fun teasing her about it as I was enjoying not actually having to talk about it. She huffed and narrowed her eyes at me. I groaned and rolled over, pinning her beneath me on the rock. I was careful to hold my own weight, only locking her thighs and arms down to the boulder.

"Quil!" She squealed.

I snickered defiantly and began kissing her neck, making it so she was squirming and giggling beneath me. "Are you sure you want to know, Claire?" I questioned with a doubtful tone. She gasped in breaths within the troughs of her contagious laughter, unable to utter even a single intelligible syllable. I asked her over and over, my breath tickling her sensitive skin even more.

I ran out of breath and, with my chest still heaving in laughter, turned back over, towing her back on top of me. I wrapped my arms around her shaking form and felt my heart swell with contentment. A prolonged sigh poured from her lips as she relaxed.

"Okay, now you _have_ to tell me," she maintained. I rolled my eyes and sighed, holding her closer to me.

"Well, it was near the beginning. They were brand new and therefore hot-headed and stubborn," I started, running my hands through Claire's silky hair. "We aren't supposed to track beyond the borders of the reservation."

"Why not?" She interrupted.

"It's just a heritage thing I guess; we're the protectors of our people, not anyone else. So anyways we were chasing a vamp, it was a small one, not too much of a bother, but it was faster than a bat out of hell. We usually try to catch them and just dispose of them here; but we chased that one off, knowing that he wouldn't come around for a second visit."

"We all phased back and turned around. But later that night Collin and Brady snuck out, wanting to snatch the little bloodsucker up for good. They crossed the border and stalked it towards Forks, only to run into a photographer who was documenting the nocturnal paths of constellations over the pacific coast. He caught a shot of their retreat, just two gigantic blurs across the frame. It was a headline on the next day's newspaper. Rangers were sent in from all corners of the state to trap and bind the beasts in order to 'relocate them to a safer environment'."

My breath blew out in one swing, releasing the tension that the memory had brought back onto my chest. Claire fidgeted with her fingers, her hot breath rhythmically skimming over my torso. "Wow," she breathed.

"They could have ruined everything," I conceded, running my fingers through the thick knots in my hair. "We couldn't trade forms for almost two months after that." I shivered at the memory. "Imagine what could have happened if something _really _dangerous had come along! We wouldn't have been able to do anything!" I sucked in a calming breath. "I don't think I left your side for one second."

"How old was I?"

"Young," I mused, "you couldn't have been three yet."

"I don't remember that," she said, cuddling deeper into my arms as a brisk wind blew over the rock. "What time is it?" She jerked up, patting her pockets for the phone she had left in the car. I pulled mine out.

"10:26," I supplied. She groaned and flopped back over my stomach. "I should be getting you home."

"No!" She stiffened against me. "Ugh—why is Valentine's Day always on a school night?" Claire asked rhetorically. I chuckled and gathered her up as she tucked her flowers beneath her arm and twirled her ring around and around. I climbed down the rocky trail and set her down to unlock the door. I felt her hand close over a section of my shirt as she whispered beneath her breath, "_Quil_?"

I spun her around, my corporeal instincts getting the best of me. My upper body pinned her to the truck, bowing against her nimble form. Her fingers trembled as they glided down my neck, needles erupting beneath her fingertips. Our mouths molded to each other's, her lips silky and full against mine. I gasped into her mouth as she ran her nails down my arms, causing a shiver to tumble down her spine.

My lips curled into a smile as the steady beat of passion echoed underneath my abdominal muscles. Our kisses were more fervent than before as her breathing sped and deepened. I tightened my arms around her back, sealing the small pockets of space that had existed between us.

Sam's growling stipulations were knocking on my eardrums, a head splitting pain compared to the sickening ecstasy that was rushing other places. I lost my breath as one particularly strong command rang through my conscious. Claire's restless lips rested against my ear," Happy Valentine's Day."

The grin that smoothed over my teeth was one of enchantment. I opened the door and set her inside, pressing my lips against her cheekbone, "best one so far," I confirmed.

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_Author's note- Substance AND fluff, good stuff, right? Ha. I hope you enjoyed it :). More drama to come next time...leave me some inspiration to continue! My fingers would be very thankful for it!  
_


	29. Chapter 29

_Author's note- Enjoy._

_Thanks to my beta Warui-Usagi :)._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Twilight series. All recognizable characters, places, plot lines etc. are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended._

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I was folded over the desk in history class, grumbling about the project on the Harlem Renaissance that we had just been assigned.

"Alright, kids, Forks High School is letting us borrow their library," the teacher dictated. _Stupid, small town budget. Can't even afford to have a library in our own high school…we actually have to share—how embarrassing, _I complained silently. "So, bring at least three sources tomorrow, cited on note cards. Only one of them can be from the internet." A collective groan rose from the group of students around me. The teacher rolled her eyes and spun on her heel, marching out of the classroom.

I shoved my books into the messenger bag on the back of the seat and swung it over my shoulder. I stalked into the hallway and ran up to the swish of long, silky black hair ahead of me.

"Chance!" I called. She paused to look over her shoulder and waited for me to catch up. "Will you drive me to Forks tonight?"

"No."

_Typical._ I rolled my eyes, "Chance, c'mon! I need books for a history project!"

"Have Quil drive you."

"He's…working."

"Well, Claire, I'm going on a date," she explained, whipping her luxurious hair over to the side with a flick of her wrist. "And I've honestly blown this guy off four different times, so I actually _have _to go."

"But…but—"

"C, why don't you just take my car?"

"Maybe because I don't have my license?!"

"You get it in like two weeks!" She cried in a high voice, twisting a length of her mane into a side braid as she slumped into the driver's side of her car. "You've been driving the two of us around for months!" My heart beat flew through the roof as the recognition of how close everything was finally dawned on me. _Sixteen._ It was a big year. I gulped. "It will be good practice for you!" she insisted, a charming smile on her face as she tried to convince me.

"Yeah, that's fine," I placated her, my voice shaky with the fresh realization. _Quil. Sixteen. _

I paced back and forth in front of the door once we got back home, chewing my nails to the quick. _Quil. Quil. Quil. Quil. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sixteen. Sixteen. Sixteen. Sixteen._ It was a mantra—a terrifying, exhilarating, unbelievable, anxious, pent-up, tense mantra. I felt a huge ball of nerves rolling in my stomach, twisting this way and that as I strode through the small entryway.

"If you don't go soon it'll be closed," Chance sang from the bathroom.

"Leaving," I called. I wrenched the keys off of the counter, digging the jagged edges into my palms with nerves. The old, black sedan protested as I turned the spark plugs to life, hearing the engine flip flop under the hood. To be honest, it probably could have used a visit to Jake's garage.

My fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel the entire way there. My lips tingled incessantly from the heat that I had on my mind, imagining his hands flowing over the parts of me that I'd wanted to give to him for so long. My pulse was rocketing in my ears, fourteen days until my birthday? That couldn't be right, if it was March fifth today…that left me with…well—fourteen days until my birthday. That had never seemed as small of a number as it did then.

The drive to Forks wasn't a long one, twenty minutes in the absence of rain. I meandered into the small building to the left of the main office with the large, black plaque reading _Library_ over the door. I allowed my fingers to trail over the spines of books as I sauntered through the aisles, grabbing one on the Blues, one about Zora Neale Hurston, and a biography of Jackie Robinson.

My excitement and anxiety rose and fell in my chest, riding a roller coaster of intensity. I felt my eyes fluttering nervously as my hands shook, how could I not have realized how close everything was? I could almost taste the anticipation that revolved in my core.

I ambled to the librarian's desk, fitting a (hopefully) discreet smile onto my lips. The thud of my heart was strong beneath my breast bone, each beat ringing with the same syllable. _Him. Him. Him._

"Good evening," the lady behind the desk said politely, scanning my books and taking my school ID. "You're from La Push, huh?"

_This is a bright one. _"Yeah, born and raised."

"I like it over there, beautiful beaches."

I nodded in agreement and took my books once they had been scanned, "thank you," I called out as I pushed into the still air outside. The car complained as I stuck the key in again, pulling back out onto the road.

The tall trees that lined the interstate stretched their fingers up to the rain, scratching the clouds with their branches. The scenery flashed by me in a blur of grey and green, familiar in its type, unfamiliar in its contents. A song I knew began wafting from the speakers and I couldn't help my fingers as they danced on the guitar strings that I imagined onto the steering wheel.

My mind took a U-turn, flipping back to the channel that kept my heart racing and my palms sweaty. His gorgeous eyes flashed behind mine, full of all the adoration in the entire world. His sincerity made the mocha color soft and moldable, able to send shocks down my spine.

And then there were some times…_those _times, when I knew exactly what he was thinking about. There was a smoldering need there, a fiercely greedy and pleasurable need that he yearned for. And lately, my body had come to responding to those looks. My lungs would freeze and my eyes would glaze over, a coil of desire tightening in my core.

And soon, as in fourteen days soon, there wouldn't _really_ be anything to keep us from fulfilling those…feelings. My head swam at the possibilities. The drops of precipitation continued pounding my windshield as I rolled down the roads, like the drops of keen anxiety that were pelting my brain.

I probably wouldn't have noticed her if the rain jacket that she was wearing hadn't been a sapphire blue trench. She stuck out like a sore thumb against the silver Volvo that I hadn't ever seen before. She was leaning against the hood of the car, staring at something off in the distance. I glanced back before I pulled to the side of the road and she had the most flustered look on her face. I followed her eye line and noticed that her troubled expression was glaring at the green sign less than twenty yards in front of her, _Welcome to La Push_. I swerved to the shoulder in front of her, flipping my hood up so that I could step into the rain.

"Stormy!" I called from the front seat, hoping that she wouldn't make me get out of the car. She squinted her eyes at me and tilted her head quizzically. "Stormy, what are you doing?" I yelled. She didn't respond. I clambered out of the car and scowled as the swollen rain began throttling the body of my jacket.

"No, no!" She came out of her laid back position and her eyes were wide, her voice kind. "Keep going!" She told me. I paused about twenty feet from her, glaring demandingly.

"What the hell are you doing out here in the rain?" I asked, completely annoyed at her weirdo antics. "And whose car is that? I've never seen it before."

"I don't think you know who I am," she promised, her pretty brown hair getting dark from the moisture.

I rolled my eyes and guffawed. _What is she on! _"Stormy, please just get in the car. I'm freezing, and this isn't very funny."

She turned her head and her dark eyebrows closed the space between them. "That's not my name."

"What do you mean it's not your—"

There isn't an accurate way to describe the way it feels when time literally stops around you. The rain didn't fall; it dangled in midair, suddenly paused into the same shock that had trilled through me. The air went cold in my lungs; the fog that was hanging from my lips froze.

I gaped at the girl in front of me, my eyes scanning over her. The flowing brown hair looked so familiar…but different. Her skin was as smooth as ivory, and I may have imagined it but I'd have sworn that it nearly reflected the low light of evening. But that wasn't what gave it away. It was her eyes. Stormy's milky grey eyes could have caught me anywhere. But these, these were different. They were gold, a bright gold.

"You're shivering," she said sympathetically. I nodded my head slightly, unable to formulate any type of response. "You should go, really, I'm fine. I promise."

"But you're…" the words tripped their way up my throat, "you're Bella."

Her eyes flew open, her expression almost…bewildered. "You—you know who I am?"

I nodded.

"Maybe you should." She paused and was in mid-step, trying to decide what to do. "Would you maybe talk with me?" Her voice was muted, nearing pleading. _Bella. Bella. Bella. Jake's Bella._

"Sure, sure."

She winced at my response and pressed two fingers into her temples. She walked to the passenger side of the silver Volvo and tossed the door open, motioning for me to get in. I approached warily, lowering stiffly into the warm, leather interior. _Bella. Jake's Bella. _The thought couldn't thread itself into my consciousness fast enough. This couldn't be her. This girl didn't look a year over nineteen.

But it was her.

"Erm—I don't even know where to start…" she whispered.

"Seems like you're about as eloquent as I am then."

She laughed, "How is it possible that you know who I am?" she wondered quietly, accompanying the question with a shake of her head.

"Um, Jake told me." How was I supposed to feel? Sitting here with a girl I felt like I knew. Being in this small of a space with the one person that had crushed one of my best friends. Shouldn't I have felt angry? Betrayed? Spiteful? Bent on revenge?

But I didn't. I felt calm, like I'd known her forever.

"Jake?" Her voice shook a little bit, a sharp crook of pain to it. Apparently it had hurt her to leave, too. "You know Jake?" Her inquest was almost frenzied at this new bit of information.

"Yeah, I—"

"Wait," she told me, "what's your name?" Her eyebrows had nearly lifted into her hairline in curiosity.

"Claire."

The corners of her eyes softened as her lips curved into a charming smile, "Claire," she said quietly. "Quil's Claire."

My heart skipped a beat. "You know me?" I asked, baffled.

She shook her head kindly, "no, I never got to meet you. I always hoped I would though. Jacob told me about you."

My thoughts were whirring past my eyes, calculating things too quickly for me to keep track of.

She cleared her throat and sheepishly glanced towards me, "would it be terrible if I asked you for a favor?"

"No, course not."

"Could you…maybe go find Jake for me? Could you tell him I was here?" Her eyes were scorching with a desire, a need. And I knew who could fulfill it. "He's changed his number…so I can't get a hold of him."

Why didn't she just drive into La Push? Had she forgotten where he lived, too?

"Sure." What else was I supposed to say? What else could I have said? If he didn't want to see her then he wouldn't come once I told him. No harm done. The door clicked as I opened it, stepping into the soaking weather.

"Claire?" She called as I straightened up; I leaned down into the frame of the car. "It was really nice to meet you," she affirmed, her golden eyes shimmering.

"You too," I swore, a comfortable smile fitting over my lips. I rushed into the black sedan and sped towards the little red house that held a very big and soon to be surprised werewolf.

I burst through the front door, thankful that Billy wasn't in the living room. "Jake!"

He skidded into the hall, a frightened look on his face. "Claire?" He scratched the back of his neck and stalked towards me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," I assured him, breathing heavily from my sprint up to the door. "There's someone waiting for you though."

"Waiting for me?" He asked, taken aback. "Like, Quil?"

"No." I took in a deep breath and uttered the two words that he had been waiting to hear for fourteen years. "Bella's here."

"What?" His voice hardened, as did his eyes.

"Well, not here," I corrected. "She's waiting for you, by the sign that says _Welcome to La Push_, ya know?" He didn't respond. "She told me that she wanted me to come get you."

He was out of the door faster than I could have blinked. The rabbit's engine roared in the garage and I heard him spin it onto the main road. Something told me he would be excited to see her. I wanted so badly to follow him, to see the happiness on his face when he finally met up with her again. I wondered if he'd notice how young she looked, too. Would he realize how similar she and Stormy looked?

I wouldn't know until later and so with my nosiness at a peak, I ambled out to the car and drove slowly towards my house. I stowed it happily underneath the weather cover and didn't turn the knob of the front door fully before Quil had yanked me inside.

"What were you thinking?" He demanded.

"What?" My puzzled tone wasn't disguised. "Thinking, when?" My head was a little slow from the events of the past half hour.

"Driving, Claire?" He asked sternly. "You do not have a license!"

"I needed history books," I said softly, offering my pile of materials up to him as his expression melted peacefully. "Chance, wouldn't take me."

He sighed and dragged me into his arms, "why didn't you just call me? I'd have taken you." He took a deep breath of my hair and then went rigid against my spine. "Claire," he said gruffly.

"Yes?" My voice shook from his reaction.

"Where have you been?"

"What do you mean? I went to the library."

"No! You went into the woods, didn't you?!" He was almost yelling.

I backed away from him. "No, I didn't!" I retorted.

"You smell like _them_!"

_Them? Them, who? _

He slammed his fist onto the table, "I told you never to go into wooded areas without me, Claire! You don't know what hides out there!" He was shaking.

"Quil, I didn't go into the woods! Okay?" I screamed back.

He looked down to me, "where did you go then?" He commanded.

"I went to the library and then I—I…ran into an old friend."

He stiffened. "What old friend?"

I cringed. "Bella."

The mocha of his eyes lit with a different fire this time, fury.

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_Author's note- Ah! Suspense! Leave a review!! :). _


	30. Chapter 30

_Author's note- Now, I do recognize that it took me a considerable amount of time to update. And I am sincerely sorry. The dilemma stood as such...I couldn't write the next QxC chapter without knowing exactly what had happened with Jake and Bella...thus i did not write just one chapter, but two essentially. And so, the Jacob POV of the confrontation between the ex-lovers will be posted as a companion one shot to this story within the next day or so. Keep your eye out for it. But as I have yet to title it, I cannot post it quite yet. And now, please enjoy. _

_Disclaimer. _

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"What!" He bellowed. "Bella? Jacob's Bella?"

"I don't think I know of any other Bellas, Quil!" I screamed. "What's the big deal?"

"She isn't allowed to be here!" His hair was on end as he ran his tensed hands through it, the tendons in the backs of them brutally exposed.

"He loves her!" I told him.

"I know that!" he cried, his eyes wild and furious. "Don't you think I know that, Claire? Everyone _fucking_ knows that!"

I winced.

He hissed a hot breath through his teeth. "I need to get the hell out of here."

The front door slammed with a rush of air, leaving me speechless. I'd never, ever seen Quil that mad. Not even when he had beaten the crap out of Casey. My heart was racing, blood pounding in my face.

_She hurt his best friend_, the realist in my head blurted. _Nearly killed him, sounds like. And we know how overprotective Quil is. _

Yes…I understood why he was mad. But I had never seen him like _that_. I couldn't stop myself from shivering as I stared at the spot that his blurry form had just occupied.

The footsteps were so light compared to the raging stomps that had led Quil outside that I nearly didn't hear them.

"Claire?" The voice wasn't the one I wanted to hear, but it was close.

"Jacob." I glanced towards him and smiled weakly. I walked towards his shivering form, sighing as he lifted me up in a hug. His skin was hot and wet from the rain, his bare chest burning against my stomach. I rubbed his back with the tips of my fingers when I suddenly felt a drop in altitude. My stomach hopped up into my ribcage as we plummeted onto the couch I had been standing in front of.

Jake's shoulders were shaking as I tucked my face into his neck, tightening my arms around his neck as he cried. The tears were slow and quiet, falling into the fabric of my shirt. His arms were secure around me, holding on to me as if I were someone else. Someone who he had just lost for a second time.

We sat there for a long time. The rain was staunched to a light drizzle by the time that Jacob's tremors quieted. He still held onto me, scared to let me go. I hummed quietly in his ear and skimmed over the skin of his wide back with my finger nails. It felt weird to comfort someone so much bigger than me, but right all the same.

"I'm sorry, C," he finally said, releasing his arms and allowing me to flop onto the couch next to him. "I shouldn't have let you see that."

My heart broke as I looked into those spacious pools of loamy humanity. "Jacob, really, it was nothing. I'm glad you came to me."

He sighed and pulled the lengths of his face down with open-palmed hands, "I just couldn't face the guys yet, y'know?"

I nodded, combing a piece of his hair back behind his ear. "Your hair's a lot longer than Quil's."

"She liked it that way," he said, resting his head in his hands.

My voice fell like my heart. "Oh."

"Well, I have to face them sometime." He sighed. "No time like the present." His thumb skimmed over the skin of my forehead, clearing the wisps of bangs away. He pressed his lips to my forehead and gave me one last hug. "Thanks, Claire."

"Anything for you," I told him, squeezing his shoulders as he stood up and watching as he trudged towards the door.

* * *

"What were you thinking?" A vein in Paul's temple was swollen, his entire face beaming with heat.

"I'm missing the part where this is _my _fault," Jacob defended, his arms coolly crossed.

"You were the one who went to see the goddamn bi—" Paul corrected himself when Jake threw him a warning glare, "…_thing_."

"Nothing happened." Jacob's eyes were closed as he rubbed his head. "I didn't break any rules. She didn't break any rules. This is all pointless."

"That girl caused more problems with her leeches than anyone else ever has!" Leah snapped. "Her being anywhere near here is like breaking all of the rules."

We all flinched when Jacob pitched his arms down onto the table in front of her, the impact rumbling through the floor, "you seem to forget that time when you nearly got me killed, Leah; I'd say you've caused more trouble than anyone else I know."

She grimaced, fuming. The chair's legs squeaked against the tile flooring of Sam's house as she pushed away from the table and left.

"Okay, children," Sam growled. "This bickering is ridiculous. You sound like my kids." He rubbed his hand over the short, marine cut of black hair on his head. "Down to the point, Jake, was she changed?"

He squirmed in his seat. "Yes."

"Were any of the others with her?"

"No."

"Are they moving back?"

That question had all of us going rigid, like poles had been shoved through our backs.

"No."

The room visibly relaxed.

"Is she gone?"

Jacob's face was stony but I saw his hands shaking. "Yes." The word sent a rack of visible pain down his body.

"Alright," Sam concluded, releasing the tension in his chest with a long heave of breath. "Now, everybody get out of my house."

My heart was beating strongly against my chest as I walked into the reduced rain fall. "Jake!" I called to him.

He shook his head and put a hand up. "I—I can't do this right now." His voice was angry, the hurting kind of anger. He stalked across the road; his arms folded behind his head, and didn't stop once he got to the edge of the forest.

Not two minutes later I heard a howl of complete agony. My body shuddered at the emptiness that rang in its oscillation. A pain—similar to his but not as strong—knocked against the bones of my torso, weakening my breath. I'd been terrible earlier. A monster.

I'd screamed at her for nothing. Well…not for nothing, but for something that didn't have much to do with her. My breath came out in a single stab at the memory of her face when I had gotten mad. She had been afraid. Afraid of me.

I'd been waiting for the day when I finally showed her how scary I really was. I'd been dreading it. But expecting it none the less. She deserved to know the frightening thing that festered in me. I hated myself for it. How could I expect her to do anything but the like?

A fierce anguish snapped in my stomach at the thought. I couldn't bear anything about this life without Claire. I couldn't bear anything at all without her.

A terrifying thought snaked through my conscience like a ribbon of thin smoke. _What had I done?_

* * *

I paced the length of my room for hours, noting the changing numbers on my clock. Quil still hadn't come back. Was he really that mad at me? I hadn't meant to do anything wrong.

Then again, I had sent Jacob into a situation that most likely was going to get him hurt. But I hadn't meant to! I thought that he'd want to see her. The whole situation had so many sides to it that I could never have thought up a name for the type of prism it would have formed.

But, similar to a prism, the light seemed to shine from multiple angles whichever way you turned it. Which only confused me more.

The pale yellow walls of my room bled into a shadowed, dark color as the moon rotated around the earth, its light entering windows on the other side of the house.

I tapped my fingers nervously against the back of my clock. It was really late. My eyelids felt heavy but my head was determined to stay awake and wait for him. That is, hoping that he came at all.

After three and a half hours of pacing I settled into my comforters, my lids too heavy to hold. The clouds of dreams began to roll in when I was jolted by the squeak of my window.

The bottom plane had been lifted, two dark hands bracing themselves inside of the frame. My heart began to pitter patter in its space. A huge form tossed itself through the window, crouching once it hit the floor.

"Quil?"

He snapped his head around at the sound of my voice, looking surprised. "Claire." His voice was soft. "Why are you still awake?" he wondered.

"I was waiting for you," I answered honestly, my pulse thundering as he stayed where he stood. Maybe he was still mad.

He approached my bedside painstakingly slowly, a wary expression in his eyes, "you shouldn't have stayed up this late."

"I—thought you might be…" _Tell the truth, Claire_. "I thought you might be mad at me." His eyes flew open in shock, or maybe continued anger. I couldn't tell. "I wanted to tell you that I was sorry."

He immediately crumpled to his knees beside me, capturing my hands in his, "how could you ever, _ever _think that I was angry at _you_?" His voice was vibrating, the dull light outside reflecting in the glass of his eyes. "I thought you'd be afraid of me after I acted like that." He was almost breathless.

"I—I thought that…aft—after you yelled at me…"

His face contorted in pain, "C, I'm so sorry. That anger was meant for someone else. Not for you. Never for you."

My heart beat quickened, a weight having been lifted off of my chest. "That's good to hear." My hands wandered to his face, the path hard to trace in the darkness that had secured itself outside of the windows. I ran my fingers down the smooth, muscular sides of his jaw and over the straight bridge of his nose. The tips of my nails floated over his long lashes, brushing wavy bangs out of his eyes.

My fingers began shaking as they traced the outline of his full lips; the thin, even skin tightened around my fingers, pulling them into his mouth. He kissed them gently before I felt a body set next to me on the bed.

"Claire." The murmur barely fluttered to my ear. The oxygen that I took in got caught in my throat as he put a strong finger under my chin, giving me no choice but to look at him. When my eyes grasped his, a fire propelled me towards him. His hands came to cup my pelvis, rolling me towards him and pressing me against the length of his muscles, thigh to thigh, chest to chest, face to face. His mouth covered mine, making the desire in me ache.

A shiver ran through me as his hands danced to the hem of my shirt, sneaking under the cuff and discovering the skin of my stomach and chest. Continuous pulses of pleasure rolled down my spine, causing my breath to go ragged and my mouth frenzied.

His hands crept slowly up the tight skin of my stomach. I realized a little too late that I hadn't worn a bra to bed. My face flushed as his hands lightly brushed against the tender skin. I gasped, unused to the feeling. Quil froze, his entirety turning to stone beside me. That was a good gasp, I wanted to say. But instead I just relaxed into his hand, allowing the calloused fingers to swipe against the sensitive skin again.

His lips were fervent and determined as they met mine for the second time, rhythmically opening and closing. There was heat all over me, thudding through my body like blood. I threw my leg over his hips and pinned him to the bed, showering his neck in slow kisses. His body writhed beneath me, putting pressure against mine. My tongue swept over the muscles of his neck, pulling some of the receptive skin into my mouth. He sucked in a short breath, speeding my heart even further.

His hands ran up the backs of my legs and came to rest beneath my butt. He hiked me up on his chest and kissed me on the mouth. This one was purposefully drawn out and lingering. My body went languid against his, a thin sheen of sweat covering me.

He smiled into the kiss, twisting his arms around me and tightening me to his chest. We just lay there, breathing. Our lungs swelled in unison, our chests contracting at the same time, prolonging the contact between them.

"Quil?" My lips grazed the rim of his ear.

"Yes, beautiful?"

"Guess what."

"I love you?"

I smiled "No," I teased. "I'm sixteen in—" I checked the clock; it was definitely past midnight, "thirteen days."

He went silent, the beat of his heart the only sound I could hear. "That's…soon." His voice was swollen with relief. "Thank God."

* * *

_Author's note- Now, leave your wonderful thoughts here so that the title to the one shot pops sooner into my head and the next chapter can swim onto my computer screen :) plus they make me very happy! _


	31. Chapter 31

* * *

_Author's note- I apologize for the wait :( I had some very busy weeks that will continue on until the end of June. But I am still in love with my story :) and these characters (which means Quil) and so there is no chance of me abandoning it! So, have faith and patience, I'm doing my best. I swear! And so I give you the thirty first installment. Enjoy!_

_Thanks to my wonderful and inspiring beta Warui-Usagi for making the post possible. _

_Disclaimer._

* * *

"That's a bad one."

I smacked his face away from my neck and grimaced. "I know that actually. Thanks, Embry."

"What'd she do? Chew on your skin for a while?" He sniggered.

I punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

"Hey!" He covered the area with his palm. "Play nice!"

I scowled into the mirror, poking the hickey on my neck. "This is going to get me in a lot of trouble." _Sam will have my head._

"You never know. Maybe you're overreacting. You've been known to, weirdly enough."

"You're not helping," I growled.

"I've had them before and he's never said anything."

"But you're a sleez." Embry laughed at me and shrugged, nodding. "And he doesn't know who gives you those. _And_ whoever they are, they're not his niece."

"Oh, true." He pushed my head to the side again and scratched at the bruise with his fingernail. "You're in deep shit."

"I hate you sometimes."

* * *

We waltzed casually enough into the Black house, a common place for everyone to hang out. Jacob, Stormy, Paul, Reagan, and Seth were lounging in the family room.

"What's on?" I asked, trying to discern the jerseys on the screen.

"Some _really_ exciting baseball game," Stormy explained. She and Jake looked comfortable. His arm was casually slung around her shoulders, his mouth to her ear as he whispered something.

"Oh." I wrinkled my nose in distaste at the baseball comment, a habit of Claire's. But I smiled at the same time, maybe Bella hadn't messed him up too badly this time. I hadn't done a full turn towards the kitchen when someone squealed from the floor.

"Quil Ateara! What is that on your neck?" Reagan cried.

_Kill me._ I shrugged my head to the side I knew it was on, pretending to scratch my cheek with my shoulder. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Stormy approached me, grabbing my face and exposing the bruise. "Let me guess…" She smirked. "Curling iron burn?"

Jacob snorted and stuffed his face into the crook of his elbow as his shoulders shook. I just rolled my eyes. "It's not really that bad," I complained.

"Yeah, it is," Reagan and Stormy said in unison.

"Can you fix it then?" I snarled. "Instead of just laughing at me as I walk onto death row?"

Seth rose from the couch, having heard the conversation and becoming interested in the object under debate. "Dude, that's ghastly."

I snorted loudly. "Don't use that word."

"Why not?" Seth asked, defensive.

"Because it's a stupid word."

"No, it's not! Maybe that huge hickey is affecting your brain."

I swung my arm behind me and felt it make contact with his cheek. A softened blow sounded.

"Ow!" He yelled, punching my shoulder blade.

"I guess I could try to put some cover up on it…" Reagan mentioned idly.

I cringed. "You mean make up?"

"Hey." She put her hands up. "You're the one with the love wound on your neck."

I paused and glanced in a reflection on the glass door. The blue and black spot seemed bigger and darker than before. My heart pounded more heavily just at the thought of how it had gotten there. I gasped as three pairs of hands pinned me to the couch.

"I can't believe I'm actually letting you guys do this," I sighed, irritated.

"Well, you aren't really _letting_ us," Seth said as he put all his weight on my left arm when I squirmed away from the scratchy, brown sponge.

"I feel so girly."

"Well, it's your _girlie's_ fault that this is here anyways," Jake reasoned, clenching his hands over my shoulders. "So suck it up."

The thick, cold syrup was spread over and over the spot until I felt like it had to be caking over. "Please, tell me that was enough."

Seth put a fist in front of his mouth and coughed out a laugh. I glanced worriedly up to Reagan.

Her eyes were humored and her lips were twitching. But she worked hard at looking sympathetic. "Quil, it's too dark."

"What do you mean? You can't cover it?!" _Might as well make funeral arrangements now._

"I'm sorry!" She burst into hysteric laughter. "There's only so much cosmetics can do!"

I shoved off of the couch and stomped into the bathroom. A large, mismatching patch on my neck was clearly visible. And so was the dark circle beneath it. _Claire's going to feel so bad when she finds out that she got me murdered._

I yanked a wash cloth out of the cupboard and scrubbed furiously at the goop that had made it worse. A soft tap came at the door.

"Quil?" It was Stormy.

"What!"

"Can I come in?"

I threw open the stupid piece of rectangular wood.

She bit her tongue as a laugh bubbled up her throat, "I don't think it's that bad."

I scoffed. "You're lying."

She chuckled lowly. "Yeah, I am."

"How could I let this happen?" I grumbled. _This could ruin everything. This could set everything back. Would Sam do that? Make me wait longer?_

"Did she draw blood?" Stormy wondered amusedly, rubbing the spot. "Because that is the darkest one I have ever seen."

I just glared at her, not honoring the question with an answer.

"Okay, touchy today, I get it." She spun on her heel, whisking out of the door.

Jacob appeared, his looming form slumping in the doorway.

"What?" I growled.

"Sam called."

_Great. _"And?"

"We're meeting in twenty minutes."

"Do you mind killing me before we get there?"

He just shook his head and laughed, shrugging away from the frame.

* * *

The meeting went as smoothly as any other, no one had mentioned my mark yet, luckily. And I had been blessed enough to keep Sam from noticing it. My mind wandered as the anxiety lessened fractionally.

I couldn't believe Claire would be sixteen in less than two weeks. For so long we'd had nothing but time in front of us, and I had nothing to do but wait. I took leisurely pleasure in enjoying each and every slow moment between us, whether she was four or fourteen.

But suddenly, there didn't seem to be any time left at all. And I didn't know how to handle it. I didn't know what to do with myself. What all would change?

My limbs stiffened as a familiar, prickly heat whirled through my veins. I wanted her so badly. I wanted everything, all of her, all of the time. And I wanted to give her all of me. Everything. Forever.

But she was only going to be sixteen.

I had waited for so long that it seemed like so much older, but she was still younger than I was when I had first imprinted.

I didn't notice we were done until everybody started rustling around me, heading for the door. I got up from the couch and hurriedly pushed towards the exit, my heart still pounding.

"Quil." Sam's voice was strong. I felt my eyes nearly pop out of my head and my heart stop. "Could you stay for a minute?" Jake squeezed my shoulder on the way out.

"Sure," I mumbled. He waited until everyone had cleared out, my entire body shaking the whole time.

"Let's take a run," he invited.

_Shit._

The forest floor didn't seem as forgiving as usual as my paws pounded on its surface. The wind blurred our shapes as we flew through the gaps in the trees, barely more there than ghosts.

_I need you to clear your head, Quil._

Sam's request vibrated through my head. I sifted through everything, tucking away moments here and there, hiding some, and leaving others in plain sight. This couldn't be good.

_How's your neck feeling?_

The question brought speed to my heart.

_What do you mean?_

I played dumb.

_Quil, I'm not blind._

_I was kind of hoping you would be today._ I thought honestly. Why wasn't he beating me into the ground yet?

_You know why we're running then._

Here it comes.

_Yes._

We were silent for a long time then. And it wasn't a comfortable silence. It was dreadful. The pulse in my chest was plummeting into oblivion while my head was trying to map the location around us. Was he running to get us lost? And then he'd leave me there to die?

Melodramatic? Maybe. But my life was on the line here.

_I'm not going to lie to you, Quil. I'm pissed,_ he said finally. My body shuddered.

_I know._

I felt like I might throw up from the feeling in my stomach. But it had been worth it. I'd do it all over again if it just meant a few more minutes wrapped around that silky skin of hers.

_But I'm not going to lie and say that I don't understand._

His thoughts were strangely sympathetic. Pushing my luck was the last thing I wanted to do, so I kept quiet.

_I've felt what you feel. I still feel it, everyday. And I know it must be agony to deny those senses._

My head was spinning so fast from the unexpected consideration that I almost couldn't understand what he was saying.

_But you disobeyed me. _

My blood froze. I began blubbering in my own defense.

_Sam, it wasn't something I meant to do; I swear. I just couldn't—help myself. And it hurt like hell, believe me._

His form came to a halt in front of me, the onyx eyes nearly invisible in the sleek shadowy coat. His four legs moved excruciatingly slowly through the air as his high head approached mine.

_I realized something the other day._

He told me. His gaze had been averted back to the forest floor.

_Claire's sixteen in a little more than ten days._

_Yeah. I only noticed that a little while ago too. _

He sighed, or the wolf version of such.

_She still seems so young._

I wanted to beg to differ, but I didn't.

_You have to understand that I'm not just her uncle, Quil. When Ron died I became her father too. She doesn't have anyone else._

The hair on the scruff of my neck stood on end in irritation. I felt a fiery flash dance across my eyes.

_She has me,_ I snarled in my mind.

_And when she turns sixteen I won't have any control of how you handle your relationship with her. So what I'm telling you, especially regarding that hickey on your neck, is that you're going to have control of your relationship. Which means you'll have control over what happens to Claire and over…reactions to some of her decision, _he snarled in return.

I nodded sharply, accepting the responsibility. I began to turn back towards the Rez when he skidded in front of me, his eyes dark.

_And, Quil? That means you're the only boundary left to protect her virtues. _

The word rang in my head. Virtues.

Virtues. Virginity. Values. Vices. Lots of 'Vs' to uphold. My throat closed up.

_I'll see you around, _Sam thought. And then he left.

* * *

She looked perfect, perched in her little corner, strumming the strings of the guitar without a care in the world. I leaned into the doorframe, careful not to make any noise, and just watched. Her eyes were closed, the smooth lids twitching slightly as the downturned orbs traced the trails her fingers wove over the strings. Those long eyelashes were boldly black against her russet skin, shadowing elongated fingers down the apples of her cheeks. Her plump, softly pink lips were murmuring lyrics underneath the wind that blew from between them.

Her thin, toned arms were bare, having been exposed by the grey tank top she had slung on. Mile-long legs were folded beneath her, lean and carved from silk. My heartbeat sped just looking over Claire's body, silhouetted by the late light of the afternoon.

Sam's bass reminder rang in my head; _you're the only boundary left to protect her virtues._

Some boundary I was. I could barely keep myself from jumping on her at that precise moment. This was going to be hard.

"Hiya." Her voice was soft. I hadn't even noticed that she'd stopped playing.

"Hey."

"Watcha been doin'?" She set her guitar down and shrugged adorably, beckoning me to her with a wave of her hand.

I trudged forward, hands tucked in pockets. A spark flew through me as she pressed her lips against the side of my face when I leaned down to hug her. "Just a boring day," I told her, pulling her against my chest.

She relaxed against me, making the inside of me warmer than usual. "Can we just watch a movie tonight?" She asked, laying her head on my shoulder. "I'm tired, sort of."

"Sure, C." I set her on the ground, wrapping her hand in mine and towing her towards the living room. "I'll bet I can pick out the movie."

"I'll bet not." She smirked, grabbing one off of the shelf.

"The Notebook?"

Her smile fell. "You know me too well," she sighed. That made me smile.

"Or maybe you just don't know me well enough," I teased.

She popped in the DVD and sunk into my lap, curving into my slouched form. She glanced up to me and gasped, giggling. "Did I do that?" She petted the shady hickey on my neck.

"Yeah."

"That's dark." Her voice was almost awed.

"I realize that," I quipped, chuckling lowly.

"Ha—has anyone seen it?"

I finally blushed. "Yeah…a couple of people." I expected her to balk but instead she laughed. I guess I shouldn't ever expect the typical of Claire.

"Good," she said smartly.

"Good?" I wondered.

"I'm proud of the first love mark I've left on you." Her smile was wide and infectious as she giggled.

"It's not the first," I promised her, noting the many that she had stamped all over me in the past fourteen years. There were memories of her punches, tantrums, butterfly kisses, and playful wrestles all over my skin. "But this one is definitely my favorite."

* * *

_Author's note- Now leave a review so I can get to work :)_


	32. Chapter 32

_Author's note- I just returned from camp! So I apologize for the wait ;). But good news, no more trips for me! So, I will speed up...hopefully. Enjoy!_

_Thanks again to Warui-Usagi for the flawless betaing that makes this story easier to read!_

_Disclaimer. _

* * *

"But I don't know what I want to do for my party," Claire whined through the spread fingers covering her face.

"It's not a million dollar question, Claire," Chance complained, tapping the pencil on the notepad in front of her. Her little sister sighed and blew an extended breath up into her bangs.

I bent down over my girl from behind and wrapped my arms around her folded stomach. "That's okay, C, we'll figure something out for you." I pressed my lips against the smooth skin of her cheek, smiling against her face as Seth and Embry made gagging noises in the background.

"Thanks," she whispered, falling into me.

My heart was pounding evenly in my chest until the realization hit me again. Two days. I had two days until Claire was sixteen years old. Needless to say, the strong muscle beneath my breastbone wasn't so calm after that. Forty-eight hours. I could practically taste the day when everything would finally be under my control, when Claire and I could decide amongst ourselves what would happen between us and when.

"Quil?" The lovable voice that I'd been mesmerized by for years hummed in my ear.

"Yeah, Claire?"

"Do I have to have a party?" Her big, round eyes were soft around the edges.

"Not if you don't want one, of course not."

She sucked the corner of her balmy lip between her teeth and shaded her eyes with those long lashes by glancing towards her feet, "because I kind of just want it to be us."

My blood went hot and I felt a delighted smile swim across my face. I bent down and kissed her again on the cheek, letting my lips linger there as I murmured, "that sounds good to me."

It had been hard to separate myself from Claire today. I mean, it was always hard, but for some reason it was especially difficult as the date loomed closer on the calendar. The big 1-6. I still couldn't believe it.

The spinning, green sphere plummeted back towards me as I grabbed it out of the air, tossing the tennis ball back towards the ceiling. Claire sat in the corner of her room, plucking bowing scales from her guitar strings.

"Peach taffy," she said, her voice bright.

I snatched the ball as it whizzed down towards me again, "come again?" My amusement had crept into the tone.

"You asked me what my favorite candies were." Her eyes twinkled as she glanced up to me from the ground and my heart sped in its place.

"I asked you about an hour ago." I chuckled loudly.

"But I had to take the time to think about it first."

I walked towards her and stole the guitar out of her lap, taking her into my arms. "Well I am so glad that you chose to inform me." I pressed my mouth against her puckered lips, tasting the saccharine tingle of a peach. "Have you been eating them over here?" I asked, laughing. She nodded, pointing down to a few opened wrappers and full bag of gooey treats on the floor.

She attached her lips with mine again and slowly dipped her tongue into my mouth, allowing the sweetness to seep from her to me. "Can you tell?" Her voice was mischievous and caused the excited sparks in my stomach to jump to life.

I only answered her with another kiss. Her fingers tangled themselves in my hair, tugging and wrapping in a way that made me shake. The heat thudded through me, throbbing deeply under my stomach. My breath came in gasps by the time we stopped, my heart thundering beneath the ribcage. The sickening pain in my head was making blood pound in my ears, I was definitely anxious for that to be over.

"Quil?" Her voice was so soft that I could barely hear it.

"Yes?" I barely got the word out through heaves of oxygen.

Her chest expanded and deflated in my arms, her skin fevered. "I love you."

Those three little words meant more to me than anything else that had ever been uttered by a human being, "I love you, too." I took a deep breath and brushed my lips over the top of her head.

She smiled timidly, her hand shaking as she raised it towards my forehead, scraping some of the hair away from in front of my eyes, "will you show me?"

I blinked a couple of times, attempting to register the question before my brow furrowed, "what do you mean?"

I heard her heart beat jump as she readjusted in my arms, "well…I mean…not now—but y'know…in two days?"

What she was trying to get at sat locked away in the back corner of my mind, refusing to show itself for the sake of my sanity. "Huh?"

Her eyelids exposed themselves as she glanced towards the ground, wringing her hands and chewing on her lip. My heart drooped at the sight.

I picked up her nervous hands and held them tightly in my grasp, "I'm sorry, Claire. I just don't understand what you're trying to say."

Her eyes flashed. "Are you going to make love to me on my birthday or not?"

My heart stopped entirely as the sounds projected from her mouth. A fist shoved its way into my throat as I choked on whatever air had gotten trapped in my lungs. And then?

Silence.

"I—I…Claire…it's just that…"_ It's just that I've wanted this for so long that now that it's here I don't know what to do about it. _

Her eyes were upset as I snuck a glance down at them, "it's just what?" Her tone led to negative places. "It's just that you don't want to?" She couldn't escape the crack in her throat.

I began to backtrack, "no, no, no, no! Claire, you've got it all wrong."

She scowled, "do I?"

I sighed, a long, heavy breath that seemed to carry all of my burdens in its width. How did I explain to the beautiful girl…woman…young adult in front of me that she might still be too young? How did I say that even though I wanted more than anything to be as close to her as physically possible that it might not be the right time?

A deep seeded craving in me ached at the thought of having to wait longer, but the logical side of me acknowledged the truth in the statement.

Claire was only sixteen years old. Barely. She wasn't even in college yet, _and _she was young for her age. I couldn't do this to my Claire, to my best friend, to my baby. I'd watched this precious thing sprout from her earliest days; I couldn't deflower her when she was only sixteen years old no matter how badly I loved her. It just seemed so wrong…

But the heat that was pulsing through me begged to differ—the want that tightened in my chest whenever I was around her pined for the day when it could show Claire what she meant to me in a physical way. I wanted her to know how much of me she held in her tiny palm. I wanted to be as much a part of her physically as I could ever be.

But she was only sixteen. Was the crazy love I had worth tainting her for when she was this young?

The crestfallen look in Claire's eyes wasn't aiding me in the internal battle. I could see that she wanted it, sense that she felt the same way about me as I felt about her.

Would it be considered as immoral as it seemed in my head in our situation? Regarding the fact that we'd been each other's soul mates for over fourteen years?

I didn't know. And I had no clue who to ask. But I knew I had to say something.

"Claire…" my voice waned into a soft breath, "you're only going to be sixteen."

She rolled her eyes and went slack in my arms, wiggling out from my hold. "That is the most cliché excuse I've ever heard."

"It's not an excuse!" I told her, capturing her tiny wrist with my hand and spinning her back towards me. "It's reality."

Her lips pursed as she grew red in the face, "No, Quil!" Her voice was loud, "You want to know what's real? What's reality? Reality is the fact that I have been in love with you like I am right now for over three years and cared about you as my one and only soul mate for a lot longer than that." The fire in her eyes flared angrily. "So forgive me if I don't quite understand why a societal norm is keeping us apart, because we are anything _but _normal."

She wrenched her arm from my grasp and stormed towards the door. My head fell heavily into my hands as I heard the old car's engine turn over and Claire drive away. Again, without a license.

The hardest part about it was that she was right. It was impossible for me to face the fact that we weren't normal, no matter how hard I tried to pretend we were. I'd been waiting for this birthday for fourteen years. I had phased at least three times a week, no matter how hard my body protested and no matter how tired I was, to make sure I didn't age. I had paused myself into this state of constant delay and anticipation.

And finally, it had all caught up to me.

But now that the hook was in my mouth, I had no idea how to swim. I didn't know how to act around Claire anymore. I didn't know how to treat her as a…lover. She'd always been my precious little bundle, a sister, a friend, a cousin, a 'girlfriend' kept at relative distance. And now that the time was upon me when I was actually allowed to be everything I had ever wanted to be to her…I didn't know how to do it.

* * *

My heartbeat was prevalent in my throat, a thudding presence that was forcing tears into my eyes. What was wrong with him?

Or perhaps the better question was: what was wrong with me?

Maybe he just didn't want the same thing I did. Maybe he didn't want to be with me like that. But from the way that he'd always powered through the migraines for our stolen moments…it sure didn't seem that way.

I'd never met a more complicated, but seemingly simple person in my entire life. Ever. I loved him more than anything. I loved everything about him. Even when he was being a dim witted, bad tempered dog I'd never loved someone more.

I wanted the opportunity to give myself completely to him, to swear my heart, my body, to him forever. _You're only going to be sixteen_. I didn't care what anyone said, sixteen seemed pretty old to me.

Most sixteen year olds hadn't been through what I had. Most sixteen year olds haven't lost their dads. Most sixteen year olds don't have a boyfriend who's a werewolf and has been around for their entire life. Most sixteen year olds haven't loved the boy they wish to give themselves completely to for fourteen years. Most sixteen year olds haven't been planning their marriage to the most important person in their life since they were two.

I wasn't like most sixteen year olds—that much was obvious. So I didn't understand why Quil was applying typical regulations to what felt right between us. My heartbeat hiccupped over the pain, knocking the breath out of me. The steering wheel was wet with sweat from my palms.

This kind of pain was new to me. And it felt oddly like rejection. And maybe that was exactly what I was feeling. My nerves curled and cringed away from the emotion as it branched through me, causing my stomach to twist in distress.

The road was identical in front and behind of me, flowing like one continuous river of asphalt beneath the vehicle. I didn't have my license yet, but I just felt the need to get out of that room, at least for a little while. And it was easier to get around when it was pouring rain outside in a car, plain and simple. _His _face flashed behind my mind's eye again, making me wince.

What if Quil just didn't feel the way I thought he did?

What if he just, flat out, didn't _want_ to be with me?

My entire body flinched at the idea, a miserable shake rolling down my spine. The roads didn't look very familiar anymore and I began to wonder how far away from the reservation I'd gotten. Unfamiliar signs flashed past the windows, unrecognizable houses decorating the road side.

I squinted through the rain trying to figure out where I was. And then the blue and red lights began to swirl in the rearview mirror. I gulped and pulled to the edge of the road.

As my window rolled down the sheriff approached the car with a black umbrella. His badge, pinned statutorily to his shirt, read _Chief Swan._

"Good Evening," he greeted in a gruff voice.

I wanted to refute that. _Not so good for me._

I was in big trouble now.

* * *

_Author's note- Leave your thoughts wonderful reviewers! They help a lot! :)  
_


	33. Chapter 33

_Author's note- Enjoy._

_Thanks to Warui, my continually wondrous beta :)_

_Disclaimer._

* * *

The front seat of the cruiser wasn't the place I wished I was at this moment, but it was better than the back.

"I can't believe you know Jake!" Chief Swan's face was crinkled into a jovial smile; he talked about Jacob like a son. "What a small world!"

I was just happy that he was more into the fact that I knew Billy Black's son than the actuality that I had been driving over the speed limit _and _without a license. "Totally." Unfortunately, that was all I could muster. This ride had been longer than any I had ever taken to the Rez, but then again, I hadn't taken the route in many cop cars…they change your whole perspective. I wondered how mad Chance would be when she had to go pick up the car tomorrow. It was something that I chose not to imagine.

As we approached the small, red house Chief Swan turned towards me, his brown eyes kind. "Now, you promise me that it's okay that I leave you here?" I nodded; it'd be better than facing Quil. "And Billy will make sure that you get whatever needs to happen done to you so that you understand _not_ to drive until you get your license…and when you do, that you do not speed again?" I nodded again. "_And_ you'll give the boy a big hug for me?"

I shook my head again and smiled, "a huge one."

The Chief blew out a long breath. "He probably could use one," he murmured quietly.

I pretended that I didn't hear that and scooted out of the car, into the rain. I pounded my fist on the door barely for the first time before it flew open. Billy sat in his chair, rolling his eyes when he saw me. He leaned into the doorframe, glancing behind me, and waved to the car that was pulling away.

"Thanks, Charlie!" He called huskily, receiving a swift wave of the hand in return. "She's in here, Jake," he shouted down the hall. Had Jacob been waiting? I began to dread confronting him. Billy look backed at me and winked. "I'm glad you got picked up by a good fella, kiddo. Pretty girls like you shouldn't run around getting arrested this late at night."

"I didn't mean to," I admitted, burrowing into the broken-in couch, suddenly exhausted. "I'm just glad Charlie seemed to like you guys so much."

Billy grinned weakly, sadly, "yes, we're old friends." I waited for more. But it never came. Billy sat for a moment, staring into space, before he rolled away towards the kitchen.

I heard Jacob finally open the door from his room. "It's nice to see you in one piece, C."

"How could you expect otherwise?" I joked. "Have you really so little faith in me?"

He laughed. "I feel bad for you once Quil gets here."

I felt my tongue swell up and a cold sweat break over my neck. "He's not coming."

"Oh, yes he is," Jake challenged, raising one eyebrow in cockiness.

I narrowed mine, remembering how they communicated when…changed. "You didn't." My voice was low.

He only hummed in response as something crashed through the back door.

"Claire Sage Hill!" His voice was loud enough to make the knick knacks against the walls shake. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

The silent treatment was my route of action. After all, I wasn't grown up enough to love. So I didn't have to act like I was going to acknowledge him in a grown-up sort of manner. If I was going to be treated like a child then I was going to act like one.

His bare chest was shining with rain and his hair was soaked as he stormed in front of me, sporting only a wet pair of sweats. "You can't just run out like that and disappear for an hour and a half!" His yelling was making my ears ring. "What if you had gotten in an accident? Or run off the road in the rain!" His eyes were wide with bridled fury. "You don't even have a license!"

I turned my eyes down and ran through bars of a song in my head, focusing on anything but him.

"You aren't even fucking _listening_ to me!" He screamed, running his hands through the sopping pile of hair on his head.

I jostled out of the cushions and sped towards the front door. The cold rain pelted against my skin, stinging.

"There's no car out there, Claire!" Quil called.

My heart was flying in my chest, enraged. A thick heat beat in my head, making my vision red. How _dare _he tell me what I could and could not do! I didn't hurt anyone. I didn't hurt myself. What did he care what happened to me? He didn't care enough to show me his love so who was to say that it existed at all?

I could hear his footsteps shadow mine through the gravel. "Where are you going?!"

_Home, idiot. Where else? _

I didn't answer.

"Claire!" He sprinted ahead of me and impeded my progress with the palms of his hands. I could barely look up at him through the rain.

"Don't touch me," I snapped, recoiling from the hot mitts on my shoulders. _So much for the silent treatment. _

"Please, listen to me," he begged.

"I don't want to listen to you, Quil!" I spat. "I get it! Okay? I get this whole thing!" The raindrops and tears that had gathered on my eyelashes made it impossible for me to look up at him.

"Get what?" His voice was soft and it broke my heart, regardless of how much I wished it wouldn't.

"I understand the fact that you don't…" I choked on the word, "_want_ me like that."

"N—no, C, y—you…" he began to refute.

"Don't say anything," I told him. My voice was wavering, my throat aching as the pain in my heart leaked into other parts of my body. I pivoted around him and pushed into the walls of precipitation, happy that my tears wouldn't show.

The ground didn't seem solid beneath my feet, I felt like I was slipping and my ankles were rolling. I stumbled my way through the darkness, sucking in jagged breaths of air between sobs.

He didn't want me.

He didn't want to be with me.

He didn't want what I wanted.

The pain was so consuming that I was nearly numb. It had been a repetitive, sharp sting in the back of my throat, a strong heaving in my stomach. My feet dragged against the mud and rocks beneath me, holding the weight of a broken heart. And then my eyes welled up with tears. But after that there wasn't much that I could feel at all. I think that it hurt so badly that my body did all it could to ignore it, which meant distracting itself.

But those distractions came in the form of memories of Quil. His beautiful face flashed across my mind, breaking me down until I was sure there couldn't be anything left inside of me.

It was a terrible feeling to know that you weren't wanted, to feel that in some way you had failed them. The past ran through my head as I picked through all of our fights and other disagreements, trying to see where and when I had pushed him too far.

The freezing rock in my chest had a cruel name—disowned. There wasn't any other way to describe the fact that someone didn't want you anymore. And no matter how much you still wanted them…needed them…cried for them, they didn't want you in the same way or quite possibly…they didn't want you at all.

Heartbreak is a deceiving word. When someone hurts your heart, it isn't specific to that one organ. The heart pumps its pain throughout the entire body, each beat crucifying the sector of veins and arteries that it forces blood through.

The agony makes your knees weak enough to collapse and sends rolling bouts of nausea through your digestive tract until it seems that the only way you could possibly remain standing is by the grace of God.

I luckily happened to have one behind me when the harm finally drew enough from me to make me collapse.

The concrete arms locked around me and I rolled into their heat, not caring that he didn't love me the way I wanted him to for this short second. I could feel the rain abate from my face as he covered me as much as he could with his chest.

He strode through a door, slamming it behind us. Before I knew what had happened I was back on the ground—on carpet, I noticed a second later. But even that stability didn't last long.

My breath got lost as his hot body crashed into mine, pinning me airlessly against the wall. His lips were crazed and desperate against mine; soft but strong. My body responded quicker than my mind could. My legs wrapped around his waist, tensing against the muscles of his hips. My arms were strung around his neck, pulling him closer against me.

His hands snuck beneath my wet shirt, crossing behind me and peeling the thin piece of fabric from my skin. My bare chest was slick against his, the heat of his body making my skin eager for its touch.

He put his arms under my butt, securing me to him as he separated from the wall and tripped a few steps backwards, rolling us onto a bed. His bed, I realized.

His hands grazed over the sensitive skin of my stomach, which tingled on contact. A tight knot balled in my stomach, a familiar one. He gasped gently as I arched against him, the high points of my chest skimming the firm skin of his.

He coaxed me into a straddle position as he sat up and took my lips greedily with his again. His huge hands roved over the tense muscles in my back and trailed down the bones of my spine, stopping at the hem of my jeans and drawing a tender circle around my waist.

"Claire," he moaned softly.

The desire in my chest fluctuated, pressing my chest harder against his as I raised my hips. He took a sharp breath at the movement of the hips against his, grabbing my pelvic bones with his hands. I kept my lips locked with his, yielding to each dip of his tongue. The muscles that lined the insides of my legs quivered underneath the skin, building a tension in them that I had never felt before.

The hands persuaded my hips slowly up and down against him, allowing me to feel the heat and strength of him. His breathing was disjointed and his lips couldn't stay in complete contact with mine as he gasped and moaned my name.

My heart was pounding so hard in my chest that I was scared that it would fall out. It had been the fastest rebound that it had probably ever experienced.

Our bodies were hot as he held me against him. His entire body was trembling.

"Are you cold?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"What's wrong?"

"I love you too much," he said sincerely, the words tickling my ear as he whispered them. "That's what's wrong with me."

I caved into his embrace, allowing my lips to glide over his burning skin as I leaned into his shoulder. He lay down onto the mattress, covering us with a cold sheet. We were silent for a long time, something that was never unusual for us.

After all of the pain, I expected my head to be reeling from what had just happened…even though it hadn't been everything I had hoped for…but maybe that was to come? I couldn't allow myself to think of such things.

But my mind wasn't racing. It was quiet. As if his touch had quieted the racket of all the pain.

His long arm fell over my side and pulled me into the crescent of his silhouette. "Claire?"

"Yes?"

"I don't know how I let you think that I didn't…" he struggled with the word, "want you. But I need you to know that there isn't anything that I want more."

I flipped to face him and wiggled up until my face was even with his, and then I placed my lips softly against his. "Okay."

"I can't imagine my life without you," he said, his eyes were warm and inviting and I had to resist slipping into them. "And would never want to."

I nestled my chin into the crook of his neck and breathed deeply, allowing his comforting smell to pull me closer to him. "Me either."

"And Claire?"

I was barely awake. "Hm?"

"On your birthday," he began. "You can have anything you want."

I smiled feebly against his skin, "But I want you."

He was silent for an extended second and then answered. "I know."

* * *

_Author's note- Leave your thoughts :)  
_


	34. Chapter 34

_Author's note- Read the note at the bottom. Almost 5,000 words, I hope you're proud of me!_

_Thanks a million to my beta Warui_

_Disclaimer._

* * *

An obnoxious ruckus sounded next to my ear. My eyes rolled around in their sockets, still reluctant to exit the dream world. The backs of my lids were dark and welcoming. The loud buzz rang again. I groaned loudly and cringed as my back popped in a few places, releasing tension that had been building there.

As the vibrating piece of machinery yelled at me once more I slammed my palm down onto the bed and slid the small, silver body towards me. The luminescent screen was a beam of light in the comfortable darkness, a bright, annoying shine.

_Good morning, my beautiful sixteen-year-old._

The text read. I couldn't help the relaxed, and yet giddy, smile that swept up my face.

_Your sixteen-year-old, huh?_

I typed in reply, sighing happily and snapping the phone shut as I stretched my limbs underneath the soft comforters. It buzzed again.

_Yep. All mine._

I rolled my eyes, humor still fresh in my face.

_Don't you have anything better to do than to tease me?_

My fingers punched the glowing blue buttons in habitual synchronization as I sat up in bed and rubbed my achy eyes.

_Not really, just standing outside your door, waiting for you to get your lazy butt out here._

My stomach ignited with small jitters as I flew towards the bedroom door, teetering in front of the mirror in order to comb my bushel of hair down and rub the sleep out of my eyes. I turned the knob and beheld the most delicious body of man that anyone would ever encounter. He was leaning against the wall of the hallway, his russet skin highlighted by the white shirt he was wearing. His hair hung down, shielding the consoling, loamy color of his eyes from my view.

"Well, if it isn't the birthday girl herself." He smirked and sauntered towards me. His hot arms wrapped me up into him as he twirled me in a slow circle.

"Morning," I murmured into the breadth of his shoulder.

"You look older," he jeered, poking me in the side of the ribcage. I yelped and covered the ticklish spot with my hands as he chuckled.

"That's what they tell me." I spun on my heel and meandered towards the kitchen, a delicious smell filling my nostrils. The table was piled high with banana blueberry pancakes, bacon, eggs, strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, and mango. I turned towards the man behind me and batted my eyelashes at him as I puckered my lips. "Quil," I whined.

He snickered. "What?"

"Did you do all of this?" I ran my hand down his arm and wrapped my hand around his, attaching his arms around my waist.

"No, actually it was the breakfast fairy. You didn't hear her come in?" He looked towards the door and cracked a goofy smile. "She was pretty loud."

"You call yourself the breakfast fairy?" I wondered skeptically, "it's a little weird, Quil. But if you like it then I guess I can live with it." He had already begun making me a plate when he glanced over, ruffled the hair on top of my head, and pushed me into a seat. I stabbed the top pancake and shoveled a large piece into my mouth. Quil sat across from me, just watching. "Feel free to help yourself," I told him.

Just then the front door burst open. "Don't mind if we do!" Embry called as he swept through the door. Seth, who had entered behind him, was quick to pounce on the table of food as well.

Jacob seemed to be the only one of the three with any manners at all. He walked slowly into the house, careful to shut the front door and came to me with a sweet smile. "Happy birthday, Claire." He leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of my head.

"Thanks, Jake."

Embry's mouth was overflowing with pig meat and sugary syrup. "Oh, yeah! Happy birthday!"

I grimaced at the sight of the partially masticated food. "Thanks."

Jacob and Quil were slow to pick their plates of food and ate in a polite way. Seth and Embry, on the other hand, bulldozed through half a dozen servings and groaned as their stomachs struggled to fit all of the food. "I am so full," Seth complained, his forehead banging against the table as he slouched forward.

"That's a statement," Jacob said, finishing his last bit of breakfast. "I've never seen you full."

"That was _so_ good," Embry moaned, stretching his arms back behind the chair.

I rolled my eyes and glanced back to Quil. His yielding brown eyes were locked on me, like they'd been staring at me the whole time. He winked playfully and then looked back down to his plate in order to skewer the last bite of eggs. "Thanks for breakfast," I told him.

"Anytime, C," he said with a sparkling smile. I forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. I pushed away from the table and ran my hand through the hair that I'd flipped over my shoulder. Or at least I _tried_ to run my hand through it. About four inches in, my fingers were stuck in the knots and tangles of the ultimate bed head. _Awesome, I must look so great right now. Not. _I quietly excused myself to the bathroom for some maintenance.

The mirror glared back at me, spitting an image of distressed bed head and ruddy, unwashed skin out. I grimaced at the sight and quickly ducked into my room to pull out something to wear. A softly coral dress was laid out on my bed, a white stone necklace above it. The small card read, _C, you deserve to look flawless on your birthday. I love you! _

There wasn't a signature. But I still didn't have to guess who had left it. A cartooned thunder cloud with a tiny lightning bolt adorned the corner. Stormy.

I snatched up the lightweight material and slipped back into the restroom. I could still hear the boys in the kitchen.

"Don't throw those!"

"Pick that up!"

"Look out!"

I winced as a crashing sound reverberated down the corridor. I slammed the door and pretended I hadn't heard it. I could hear my mom rush into the room and begin directing them all to cleaning stations.

"Jacob, get that off the floor. Seth, get out the broom. Embry, get on the dishes. Quil, start putting the left-overs in Tupperware for the fridge."

I snickered under my breath and was happy that I wasn't part of the clean-up crew. Not today, at least.

_Today. The_ day. The one thing that I had been waiting for.

Not only me, though. That's what made this day so special. It was the fact that it was as important to Quil as it was to me. It was the dropping of the iron curtain, the coming down of the Berlin Wall. Birthdays were typically selfish days. At least, for me they always were. But this one was different; this one was to be shared. It meant so much more than any of my others ever had.

It couldn't be here. I couldn't actually be _sixteen_.

I'd been waiting for this day for so long that even though it was upon us, I couldn't comprehend the fact that it was happening. The adrenaline in my blood soared as the knowledge of the new regulations (or absence of such) crossed my mind.

March nineteenth had always been marked on my calendar obviously; you don't typically forget your own birthday. But today was different. I glanced down to the silver ring that Quil had given me on Valentine's Day. The numbers shone even in the artificial light of the house.

My ring was engraved with the day when everything had begun, but it didn't contain the date for when everything finally happened. That day was today. My birthday. My _sixteenth_ Birthday.

My knees felt slinky and unstable as Quil's face smiled at me through my mind's eye. His tousled hair that always lay across his eyes just right, the spark in his eye when I caught him staring at me, the firm slopes of his lips, the muscles that stretched underneath the skin of his chest, the way his shoulder smelled when I laid against him, the way he tasted…

I steadied myself on the counter, appreciating the sensory overload for what it was.

The brush shook in my hand as I gently tugged through the tangles in my hair; the coral dress was pretty against the color of my skin, the white stone necklace highlighting the olive undertone. It wasn't raining outside, at least not yet. The clouds were thick and close, noticeably grey without seeming menacing.

There was a knock at the door and a quiet squeak of the hinges. "Morning, pretty girl." My mom was leaning against the wall.

"Hi, mom," I said softly, resting against her.

"Your hair has gotten so long, Claire." She brushed her fingers from the crown of my head down to the middle of my back.

"Yeah, I like it this length." Her warm shoulders were forgiving to my stance, allowing me to rest against her as I swept on some mascara. I caught her gaze in the mirror. A sense of belonging expanded through my midsection as she smiled at me. A smile that only a mother could produce for her daughter.

"I want you to know how proud of you I am," she told me. The smooth apples of her cheeks raised in a grin, causing the corners of her eyes to wrinkle.

I laughed softly. "Proud of me for what?" I wondered. Had she gotten my latest report card? _No,_ the realist in my brain teased, _she wouldn't be so proud of that._

"For whom you are as a person." Her voice was warm, familiar to me. One of only two voices on this earth that could make me relax. I turned and stared at the woman that had given me everything. "You may be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you are a wonderful character. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I completely agree." A deeper, rougher voice came from behind her. Quil stood in the hallway. _Gorgeous, simply gorgeous._

My mom glanced behind her and smiled at him before looking back to me. "Have a happy, happy birthday, baby." She kissed my cheek.

"Thanks, mom." I hugged her tightly, wrapping my arms into the maternal comfort that I'd always needed. "Love you." Quil offered her a warm smile as she squeezed past him in the hallway, his huge form didn't leave much room.

"Where are the boys?" I tucked my hair behind my ears and threw my toothbrush into the top drawer.

"They just left," he said quietly.

"Oh." My tailbone rested against the counter as I turned to face him. His eyes were swirling with the look that I'd only recently realized. It was the look that made my blood pump hotly and my hands shake, the one where if he was within grabbing distance I could barely resist throwing myself at him. He closed the distance between us in two long strides and towered over me, running his hands down my arms and leaning down onto the counter.

"Ready for the best birthday ever?" His breath tickled my ear.

I practically turned into putty in his arms. "Of course."

He towed me out of the house, a face breaking smile on his lips. I barely snatched my jacket and shoes as he dragged me out of the door. He gave me a gentle shove towards the truck as he ran to the driver's side.

"Excited, Quil?" I laughed.

"Aren't you?" He tapped the tip of my nose.

I scrunched it up and pouted my lips at him.

"Cute, Claire," he jeered. I rolled my eyes and let him capture my tiny (compared to his, at least) hand. If only he knew how much more of me he was holding at the same time.

"Where are we going?" I finally asked after twenty minutes of flying down unfamiliar roads.

"Somewhere." He flashed a coy smile and my heart jolted in my chest.

"I never could have guessed," I bantered. He only chuckled lowly and squeezed my hand. "Can I ask you something?" Quil nodded, not breaking his stare from the windshield. "What does it feel like?"

He looked over to me and modeled a puzzled expression. "What does what feel like?"

"To be a werewolf." I'd always wondered what it would be like to have the ability to be something else. It seemed like a seamless way to escape anything.

He tensed his jaw, thinking over the answer. "If it weren't for you, I'm not sure I could bear it." He let out a strangled breath, like it had hurt him to say it.

My midsection tingled with dismay. "But…it seems like a good thing."

He sighed again and slouched into the driver seat. "It _seems_ that way because you've never known what it feels like to know that you could hurt somebody, k-kill them even if you weren't careful." He stammered through the statement.

My other hand snuck over to cover the one that held mine. "You wouldn't ever do that, Quil."

He looked out his window and ran his free hand through his hair, "that doesn't really help, C. It's that I _could_."

I squeezed his hand, desperately trying to pull his attention back to me. "You don't think I'd love a monster, do you, Quil?" I attempted to sound light-hearted but the quiver in my voice betrayed me.

His face slowly rounded to display its dazzling smile to me. He pressed his lips against the back of the hand he held. "You're too good for me, Claire."

A delighted, and relieved, smirk filled my lips. "Well, who didn't know that?"

* * *

"I'm going to run into a wall." My hands were outstretched, searching for something solid to lead me. Quil's hands were clapped over my eyes, his rock hard abdomen serving as my guide as I cringed away from the things I imagined I was about to hit.

"Calm down! I'm not going to let you run into anything." He laughed at me. I heard him turn a knob and push a door open. "There, we're here."

I ambivalently shrunk back against him, keeping my eyes shut for an extended second. Once they had been opened it took me a second to realize what we were inside.

The first thing I noticed was that the floor was covered with peach taffy. But amongst the sea of refined sugary goodness sat a sound board and a hanging microphone, the walls were lined with insulators and a large desktop resided beside the controls.

"Happy birthday," he whispered from behind me.

"It can't be…" my voice waned.

Quil's chin rested against my head, his arms wrapping around my shoulders. "I figured you'd need one eventually."

My mouth fell open. A studio? A _recording_ studio? He'd given me a place to log my music. "Oh my _God_." I walked slowly towards the sound board, tracing my fingers delicately over the sliding bars and queue buttons. A black stool sat underneath the hanging microphone, a hole hook one for a guitar on the wall.

Sugar-filled wrappers crunched under my feet as I walked further into the room.

"Quil." My voice was soft.

"Yes, beautiful?" His voice was next to my ear.

"This is too much." My fingers brushed over the screen for the microphone.

"You're too late," he whispered in my ear. I could feel his smile against my cheek.

"I—I…I don't even know what to say."

"How about, thanks, Quil. You're the best boyfriend ever and I love you?" He teased.

I spun in his arms and stretched on my toes so that I could wrap my arms around his neck. "Thanks, Quil. You're the best boyfriend ever and I love you."

He laughed quietly and bent down to press his lips to mine. "I love you more."

I sighed as his mouth detached from mine and followed obediently as he towed me from the room. When we emerged into an all-too-familiar hallway I couldn't help but freeze in my tracks. "Quil?"

"Yeah?" He turned towards me, looking down to my planted feet.

"We're in your house."

"Wow." He laughed at me. "Shocking revelation." He raised his eyebrows in good humor.

"Why did you drive me around for two hours, park in a forest, and blindfold me with your palms if we were just going to your house?"

"It wouldn't have been a good surprise if you knew where we were going," he explained. The grin on his face was making my train of thought skip away. I desperately clung to its fleeting tail, wanting to understand his mischief.

"How could I not have noticed it? I was here two days ago."

He smirked and nodded towards the door we'd just exited from. "You never go in that room."

I took a second and glanced around the hallway, mapping myself into the recognizable territory. "But…that's Embry's room."

"_Was_ Embry's room," he stressed.

I felt my eyes go wide. "You kicked Embry out?!"

"I didn't expect such a vehement response to that." His dark eyes were lit with the kind of pleasure that only the male species achieved from coyness. "But no, I didn't _kick him out_. He moved in with Seth and Paul."

"But _why_ did he move out?" He was purposely avoiding my question to my terrible annoyance.

He leaned casually against the hallway wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, number one; I needed that room to build your studio. Number two; I'm finally making enough money to make the mortgage on my own. And number three; I'll only need one bedroom from now on even when I do get a new _roommate_."

"Only one?" _Why did he have to be so difficult?_

"Well I figure the next person I live with will want to share my room…my bed." He smirked. "Right, Claire?"

I felt my face erupt with the heat from rushing blood as I reddened. "W-wha? Um…"

He laughed and jokingly punched me in the arm. "Not for a while." He winked at me. "But when the time does come…"

He allowed the concept to sink in, smiling as the blush in my cheeks got darker and darker. He grabbed my hand and walked towards the living room. An amazing smell filled my nostrils, a garlic spiced, hot aroma floated through the air.

His kitchen was uncharacteristically tidy. There was a black table cloth over the seating arrangement, a large vase of roses in the center of the setting. Two steaming plates of noodles and chicken, along with a complicated sauce and vegetable arrangement that I could never identify, sat in front of the only two chairs.

"Quil, I've never seen you cook a meal in my entire life and then today you make two gourmet platters?" My eyes remained glued to the appetizing food as I laughed.

"Oh no, breakfast is my only ability." He smiled at me. "I had help with dinner."

The candles flickered as we talked through the meal. The sun slowly retreated, leaving thin breaths of color in the sky. Our voices flowed melodiously towards each other, meeting and spinning into the air. The plates were eventually cleared, his much faster than mine. But we kept talking, just rivers of words.

I knew what was coming. Or what was supposed to come. He knew it was coming. And we both recognized that the other knew. But, although I had assumed there would be, there was no rush. It came to the point where we both realized that there was an expanse of time ahead of us that we were happy to have. We laughed and he stroked the back of my hand, clasping it in his own. He would smile at me as I talked to him, drawing me into those huge, brown eyes. When I looked out the window at the cragged outline of the mountains his fingers found their way into my hair, gently tucking and shifting pieces into place.

He stood after about three hours in those chairs and lifted me out of my own. "Claire," he hummed in my ear. My heartbeat was fast under my rib. This was it. Putting aside the expected, anxious butterflies of the moment, there was a terrible sense of dread in my stomach. Would it be awkward? Would it seem forced? I could practically envision the knocking elbows and bumping heads now. Inwardly my stomach rolled. I groaned silently.

I yanked myself back into reality as I felt Quil's lips linger against the surface of my hair, his hot breath making my scalp tingle. His lips were soft when he lowered them onto mine. It wasn't a frenzied connection. It was tender, like the touch of a whisper. His hands were quivering against the skin of my back, tensing as he raised me up onto his hips and carried me. And this time I was expecting the bed as my back collided with it.

His hands were slow as they roved up the sides of my legs, lifting my dress up and over my head. I reached for the buttons of his shirt and meticulously undid each of them until he was on his knees in front of me, his glorious chest exposed.

My hair was tugged as his fingers wound in the lengths above my shoulders, urging me towards him. Our lips met again, with more fever and passion than before. A flame in the deepest pit of me licked against the inside of my skin, raising tingles all over. His hot chest was pressed against my skin; I could feel the sweat as it began to dew on my back, making my breathing a little more ragged than it already was.

My fingers skimmed over the definite muscles that swelled and shifted underneath his dark skin. The sheets were kicked off the bed, leaving us with as much room as we could hope for.

"Claire." He said my name again. My body shuddered at the sound of lust in his voice. A wry smile uncurled over my lips, I'd put that there. I'd caused that. With a renewed sense of venture my fingers crawled down his body, beginning to unlatch the buttons on his jeans. He sucked in a sharp breath when he realized what I was doing. My fingers froze, unsure of whether or not to continue.

He let a deep breath release against my lips as he lowered his own hands down onto mine and insisted that they continue undoing the zipper. Our bodies twisted and pressed against each other, enjoying the uninhibited experience of full contact.

Somewhere along the way my bra ended up on the floor. His hands and mouth explored the sensitive skin with care, encouraging a few whimpers from my lips. His arms folded behind my back, completely encasing me with his heat. I smiled against his shoulder. "I've been waiting for this for so long," I whispered to him.

His eyes locked with mine, looking black in the darkness. And he smiled. "It's felt like forever," he agreed. His hand casually danced down the right side of my body and within seconds I was completely and irrevocably naked.

My back slid against the sheets as he laid me down, his hands upholding the weight of his body. My tongue swirled over the heated skin of his neck, causing him to writhe against me. His fingers found their way to the inner most part of me and teased the ultra-sensitive area until the heart in me was thundering in its cavity.

Sooner rather than later he too was completely rid of clothing and I was speechless at his…physique. He was never rough, never too fast. His silhouette melted against mine like we were made to fit into one another's shapes; regardless of his powerful strength he was impossibly affectionate and careful.

But…

But when that moment came…I couldn't. He was hovering above me, his lips against mine. "Are you ready?" he asked softly.

I gulped and nodded slowly. His breath was labored as he neared me, the sighs flowing over my chest. I could feel his pelvic bones against my legs and I felt the fire in my stomach flare. I wanted him so badly. His abdomen was inflating and deflating quickly as I felt him against me. I wanted this so badly.

My mind flashed through quick snapshots of my best memories of Quil, like a live scrapbook. I saw him flying towards me as I fell back through the air, fresh from flight propelled by his arms. My nose tickled as I remembered the wish flowers we'd blown through the yards every summer. His expression on the day my dad died burnt against my skull, taking me under its flame. I felt the thick velvet of his fur knot under my fingers from when I had first seen his wolf form.

I felt the tightening in my chest that I had when I had first really _seen _Quil in a bathing suit. He'd taken me to the beach every summer since I could remember. But that one summer, he looked so much different.

My stomach twisted in terror when memories of the camping trip crossed my head. Having him leave…and knowing he may return hurt or not at all. I'd had so many firsts with Quil. So many unmarked territories, untainted with the imperfections of others. No second-hand experiences. No borrowed sensations.

All fresh and fleshed out anew.

But was I ready for _this_ first? For this act that meant so little to so many people? It meant everything to me. It was the physical expression of the disgustingly real love that I felt churn in the bottom of my stomach whenever I looked at him. It was the connection between our bodies that made everything we felt not only spiritual…but tangible.

It was an irrevocable experience. A once in a lifetime thing. You only lose your virginity once and, in my case, it had been prophesized to be perfect. But was I old enough? Could I really do this? I wanted to be so ready for this moment that I practically surrendered myself to him.

But I felt so guarded. I felt hesitant, shy. I wanted him more than anything. I wanted all of him, completely, forever.

But I couldn't. Not yet. "Wait." The word was almost inaudible as it slid through my lips.

He immediately flipped to the side of me, his eyes searching mine. My body was shaking. I could feel all of the muscles in me tense up as I covered myself with the sheet that I drug off the floor. I had just shattered the thing that I had been dreaming about for the past couple months.

"I'm sorry," I told him, one swollen tear leaked from my eye. His face softened and he immediately wrapped his arms around me.

"No, Claire." His hand ran through my hair. "Never be sorry. We don't have to do this now," he whispered. "We have the rest of our lives to be together."

But I messed this up, I wanted to say. This was supposed to be perfect.

"I'm so sorry," I said again, succumbing to the tears as I curled into his side. I'd ruined everything.

"How can you say that?" He brushed the hair over my eyes away so that I had to look at him.

"I wanted this." I hiccupped through a breath. "We fought over this! I practically forced you into it—"

He kissed me, not allowing me to continue. "Claire." He smiled a warm, inviting grin. "You're sixteen. I don't want anything but you and I have the rest of my life to be there. We don't have to do this now."

I closed my eyes and sighed, releasing a heavy breath. "Okay."

"But there is something I _would_ like to do now." His arms detangled from me as he reached over the side and tugged a shoe box from under the bed.

"Quil?" My voice was wary.

He had a devious glint in his eye. "Claire?" I took a deep breath. He produced a small, velvet box and I felt my throat close up. "Marry me?"

* * *

_Author's note- Thank you so so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. The story will go on. More chapters to anticipate :) Although I may bleed it into another story. We shall see._

_I believe I do owe you an explanation for why the chapter took so long, apart from being the hardest to write. I debated whether or not to share with you the real reason that it took a month. But I figured maybe if I did share it, I'd be able to provide some sort of support to anyone else who may have or will experience what I went through. At the beginning of July I lost a close friend to suicide. I will miss him forever. It took me a long time to do anything really after I found out. Thus explaining the hiatus of the story. I am so deeply sorry. But I hope you enjoyed what I have submitted. _

_Leave any thoughts. Thanks, guys._


	35. Chapter 35

_Author's note- Hello, friends. I present to you, the epilogue of Belated Birthdays. I've had fun writing this and I love Quil and Claire dearly as of now. Perhaps one day I will return to continue their story :). Keep a look out for me! Until then I'm going to try and sort out my life, maybe write some non-fiction of my own. Enjoy. And thanks for everything. Your support has inspired more than you could ever imagine._

_Disclaimer: None of the recognizable characters, locations, or plot points are my own. All are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No Copyright infringement is intended.  
_

* * *

My hands were tangled deep into her hair, her breathing hot and unsteady against my face. I pressed my lips to hers swiftly, multiple times, drawing my favorite smile out from hiding.

"I hate when you tease me like that," she sighed, the smile still attached, her form molding to mine completely against the porch side wall.

"I just love that smile." I softly kissed her again, longer this time, loving the sigh that she released.

"Quil!" Stormy's shrill shriek rang from inside of the house. "Go to your bachelor party! Immediately! I need Claire in here now!"

"I think that's code for 'get out now'."

She smirked. "Not cryptic enough to be code," she told me. I laughed. "It's blatantly obvious that you are no longer wanted here."

"Harsh," I hissed, the wind whistling between my teeth.

Claire began wiggling out from the pin I had her in, but I refused to budge.

"Quil."

"Yes, Claire?" Her eyes stared humouredly up at me, a smile begging to crack over her lips as she tried to act mad.

"Leave," she cried, giggling. Her hands pressed uselessly against my chest, her hips arching against me in effort. Now,_that _was certainly not going to get me out of here any faster_._ She whimpered, groaning as I lifted her hands above her head. "Why can't you just go have fun without me? Go to your party!"

"I can't!" I claimed, glancing down at my watch. "Forty-two more seconds!"

She squirmed against the wall, attempting to slide out from underneath my hold. My shoulders shook with laughter at her lack of success. "You're impossible," she said.

I looked one more time down at the watch. "Midnight." Her smile was brilliant in the moonlight. "Happy eighteenth birthday, Claire."

o.O.o

Stormy's flustered countenance awaited my arrival as I swept through the front hall, an overwhelming smile refusing to leave my lips. Her fair hands closed over my wrists and pulled me into the electric chair that she had rigged with four different types of hot tools.

"Boys." Her mutter was spat irritably as she combed fly-aways out of her eyes and checked the power to all of the curling irons and curler holders.

"You're huffy tonight." I giggled. Her steely eyes caught mine with a quick glare but softened just as quickly.

Her smile was kind as she twirled a piece of my hair in her fingers. "You _are_ going to see him in thirteen hours." My heart drooped and the feeling was clear in my face. She laughed at the absurdity of my sadness.

"That seems so long."

"Think of it this way, the next time you see him you'll be walking towards him in a white dress." She gently patted the garment bag that hung from a hook on the door beside her. My pulse quickened at the vision. "Oh, Claire, I'm so happy for you guys." Her thin arms closed around me, the warmth of a close friend shaking off the jitters of the coming day, if only for a moment.

"Thanks, Storm. It's going to be a special day." My heart raced as I thought of how special the next night would be. After the near-terror of my sixteenth birthday we'd decided to wait for everything. And what a long wait it had seemed. Stormy's nimble fingers began tugging at my hair, strangling it into curlers, piece by piece.

I'd murmured a blubbering 'yes' that night. After recovering from the unexpected proposal, however, I'd set terms of my own. I was too young to get married at that point. He had agreed. And I wasn't sure if I should have worn the ring around, people don't look kindly on engaged sixteen-year-olds. Quil's face had fallen swiftly when I'd said that. His voice had trembled and his eyes had fluttered as he'd said, "you don't _want_ to wear my ring, Claire?"

Excess tears had welled in my eyes, spilling over the ones that were already dwelling there. I had offered my hand to him then. His smile broke slowly; he pressed his lips against my fourth finger before slipping the ring onto my finger. The resolution in his big, brown eyes melted quickly after that.

My terms? I would marry him on the soonest, suitable day in my opinion, which was my eighteenth birthday. And I would wear his ring. But I got to make my own decisions about college.

I deferred admission to Seattle Pacific for a year to spend more time writing down my own music before I got to school. I was going to major in music, surprising I know. And Quil was going with me. He'd already picked out an apartment in Seattle and everything.

Heaven wasn't really a place on earth. But I felt that I had gotten pretty close to what might be described as such.

o.O.o

It was colder than we had expected. The chilly wind gave me goosebumps as we climbed the stairs to the only church in La Push. Once inside, the butterflies swirling in my stomach were quite enough to keep me warm. The set-up was simple. The gathering was small. The aisle was covered in white satin. And tears were in Sam's eyes as I wrapped my arm around his, taking that first step with him and knowing that my dad was smiling down on me. These are the only details I recall up until I locked eyes with Quil. From that point on, the only particulars I can summon have to do with him. Which is utterly fine with me.

"Claire." His eyes were full of such a deep emotion that it was hard to keep contact with them. But I did. Because that strong feeling was because of me. Because he was mine. I smiled. All mine. "I've always liked giving you nicknames, C. You've always been my baby, my little girl, my best friend, my confidante." He sighed. "And now you have another title, my wife." My stomach somersaulted in my torso. "It's our God intended right to be loved. Your dad was one of the most wonderful people I ever met, and I know that he must have had a lot of good things to say to the big guy about you. Because I love you more than life itself." His thumb skimmed over the top of my cheek, wiping away the tear that had slipped from my eye.

"C, you're the air in my lungs when I take a deep breath, a calming, soothing instinct to me. You're something I could never live without and I can't imagine even being able to try. You're my world, Claire Bear. And I wouldn't have it any other way," he ended quietly, the atmosphere was silent. The audience was speechless, as was I.

I swallowed, attempting to pull the sudden frog from my throat. It didn't work. I stood there, my tongue swollen and dry.

"Claire," the minister prompted quietly, "it's your turn."

I took a shaky breath. "Quil." The waterworks continued. "You're my hero, my superman. You're stronger than me, taller than me, sturdier than me, and more righteous than anyone I've ever met." Sam cleared his throat inconspicuously at the end of the line of groomsmen. Only the wolves snickered. "But for the longest time I thought I had you conquered. I knew you would do anything I ever asked of you, no matter what. It was like having a superhero to play with. I could be untouchable." I smirked up at him. "But then I began to realize that your power applied to me, too. I loved you as much as you loved me, if not more. I guess I'm not so powerful anymore. I would and will do anything you ever ask of me."

His smile slowly unfolded, stunning as always. He mouthed _unlikely_ to me silently. My grin only widened.

"And I promise to love you that same way for the rest of my life," I said.

* * *

_Author's note- Good-bye for now. I hope you'll leave a parting thought :)._

_Warmest wishes from a personal space heater lover,_

_Kap.  
_


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